


Going Batty

by gay_thot_writing



Category: DCU (Comics), Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: "Uh alright I think that's enough tags"- author, Adrien salt, Adrien stans dni, Author ten seconds later: "Wait-", But I will not give it to her (right now), Canon-Typical Violence, Editorialized by author's sister, F/M, Lila salt, Marinette deserves better, Slow Burn, Youll get mad if you like adrien, hi, no seriously, she does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 22,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_thot_writing/pseuds/gay_thot_writing
Summary: From the author's sister: If you hated s3 and love Marinette and Daminette, this is probably the fic for you.  Updates once a week (Fridays) on tumblr, but will update 2x a week here until we catch up so follow us @mar1garden!!  Now for a proper summaryDamian Wayne, a new transfer to Francois-DuPont (on request from Bruce, of course), seems to find himself getting closer and closer to his new seat-mate.  But what does she know about Ladybug?  How does she know so much about her in the first place?  Questions, questions..(Slow burn!!)EDIT: STOP TELLING ME CHAPTER 10 IS INCONSISTENT I KNOW ITS INCONSISTENT. chapter 10 lives in a bubble shhhhhh let the bubble be
Relationships: Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 208
Kudos: 1680





	1. Chapter 1

The first impression Damien had of his new class was that they were loud. Even as he walked up the stairs, he could hear voices in the classroom. It seemed a debate was occurring, though he couldn’t quite make out the two sides. He reached the top of the stairs, but before he could even make a grab for the door handle, the room fell silent. Damien was about to thank whatever deity was watching out for him and silencing the roomful of screaming children he was about to walk into when he heard another voice from inside the room.

“Of course she’s in love with him,” an effeminate voice said matter-of-factly. “But he barely knows she exists. It’s tragic, really. She tells me about it every time she sleeps over- oops!” the voice continued. Damien didn’t know who was speaking, and he didn’t know who they were speaking about, but he knew from their cadence and their confidence in “accidentally” spilling secrets that he couldn’t trust them as far as he could throw them. Damien sighed deeply to think that he was joining a class of liars and idiots as he reluctantly opened the door to the classroom. Once more the class quieted- chaos had broken out once more after the liar mentioned her little tidbit, which he expected had been the goal.

“Ah! Our new student! M. Damocles told me to keep an eye out for you. Would you like to say a few words to the class?” a woman- presumably the teacher, though she did nothing to show it- asked. She smiled expectantly at him as he moved to stand in front of her desk, facing the class.

“I’m Damien. I’m 15 and I’m an exchange student from America. I do not wish to distract myself from my studies during my time here, so please do not try to make friends with me. I’m not interested,” Damien told the class sharply. He walked briskly to the only open seat in the room- back row, next to some girl who smiled gently at him before returning her gaze to the front of the class. Interesting, he mused. By her bright clothes, he had expected bubbliness. Perhaps a high-pitched greeting. A hug, maybe. This was a pleasant surprise, though it was the only one of its kind he had had all week.

On Monday, they had received video evidence of a super villain in Paris. Tim had suspected it was CGI, especially since Paris was visually completely fine when he hacked some security feeds, even though the video clearly showed the Eiffel Tower falling. Bruce had decided that they really ought to at least check before writing it off, and Damien had drawn the short straw.

On Tuesday, Bruce had told him his cover for being in Paris was that he was an exchange student. He wasn’t allowed to be Robin while he was there, as it may put his identity at risk. He wasn’t allowed to leave until he had confirmation that the thing was either a hoax or genuine, unless he was in actual danger.

On Wednesday he packed. He couldn’t take weapons with him, obviously, because airport security may be a joke but he was pretty sure they would catch an actual sword stuffed in his bag. That afternoon he had flown to Paris and gotten settled in.

And now it was Thursday. Damien had learned much about the class very quickly, mainly that it was composed of a liar and some idiots. He had learned his deskmate was quiet. He had learned that he was far enough ahead in the syllabus that he could afford to study people in class.

He hoped the rest of the week was calm. Even if it meant he had to stay longer, he would rather have time to get settled before suffering a villain attack- if the whole thing was real, anyways. He pulled his focus back to the task at hand- assessing the class and finding any useful allies or sources of information. He recognized the girl next to the liar as the Ladyblogger. This meant the Ladyblog was likely an unreliable resource, which he mentally jotted down. That was good to know.

Damien cast a sideways glance at the girl next to him. She was patiently listening to the teacher and obviously tuning out the other students. When Damien bothered to listen, he noticed them gossiping about her. So Marinette was her name, huh?

Every rumor he heard was traced instantly back to the liar, and with each word he noticed the girl next to him tense imperceptibly more. He mentally scoffed. It was clear that she wasn’t going to stand up for herself. How pathetic. She was preferable to the liar or any of the blind idiots, but certainly not by much. So lost in thought was he that he flinched when the bell rang. Where had his restraint gone?

Marinette turned to him once the bell had rung. In a voice clearly pitched down so others wouldn’t hear, she spoke for the first time that day: “You’re Damien, right? I’m Marinette, the class president.” He scoffed slightly. The whole class clearly hated her, and she refused to stand up for herself. How had this mess become class president? As if she hadn’t heard him, she continued: “If you need anything, let me know. Here’s your class schedule and syllabi, and here’s a map of school. If you’d like, I can give you a tour later and explain the multiple purposes of some of the classrooms.” She handed him a short pile of papers and waited, as if she expected a response. When she got none, she nodded and left, and somehow, that made Damien feel worse than he would have if she had scolded him on his lack of a ‘thank you.’

The rest of the day, he remained in the same classes as her. He sat next to her in a majority of them, as she was often the only person with no seat partner. She remained quiet and focused, and she continued to pointedly ignore the other students, though it seemed he was not among their ranks. When he asked any questions, she answered quickly, quietly, and to the best of her ability, which he appreciated. She may be useful yet, if her succinct answers to non-hero questions were any indication of her general temperament. As he thought this, the bell rang for lunch and the class began to pack up. Damien wasn’t sure if he should risk the caf or head off campus, but as he turned to ask Marinette, he noticed that she had frozen in place. Her bag was half packed and resting on the table as she looked in surprise at someone standing at the table.

The boy was blonde and green eyed. He had had the liar hanging off of him, which either meant they were working together or he was a bigger idiot than them all. He smiled condescendingly at Marinette and Damien, then he turned solely to Marinette. “Marinette, may I speak with you real quick? It’ll only take a minute,” the boy asked, though it was clear ‘no’ was not an option. At the girl’s small nod, he turned to Damien. “Do you mind if I steal her for a sec?” he asked. Damien raised an eyebrow.

“Seeing as she’s a human being and therefore not property, I don’t see how you could steal her, but be my guest.” The boy smiled that same smarmy smile at him, and Damien decided that too many unlikeable people disliked the sweet girl next to him. He didn’t want to be among their ranks, and while the girl could do with a bit more spine, she had been nothing but pleasant to him. As the boy maneuvered her away to speak, Damien moved a bit more quietly. It would be easy for his trained ears to overhear, and they should both underestimate him, so it would be simple to eavesdrop.

“Mari, you didn’t say anything to him, did you?” the blond asked, looking searchingly at the girl in question. She sighed in response.

“Is that what this is about? I promise, I didn’t tell him anything. I think he knows she’s lying, and if he asks, I won’t lie to him to protect her, but I haven’t told him anything and he hasn’t asked.” Marinette rolled her eyes at the boy. Damien couldn’t help but notice that her posture, while visibly scared when other students were around, was simply bored when only Blondie was there. The boy had sighed in relief at Marinette’s words, but had quickly tensed back up.

“Wait, if he asks if she’s lying, you’ll just… tell him? Just like that? Mari, you can’t do that! He doesn’t know us, he doesn’t need to know our secrets!” the blond protested. He assumed a superior expression and quickly looked at Marinette in as disappointed a way as he could manage. The aforementioned girl glared at him.

“Agreste, I’m not going to lie. I refuse to do so, especially to try and protect a girl who hates me. Damien is perfectly kind and has been nothing but cordial, I have no reason to deny him information that may affect his time here. I won’t make him listen to some liar thinking it’s the truth.” Marinette ended the conversation there, walking back to the desk quickly and packing her bag before leaving class. Damien took this in with an air of quiet amusedness, though he was touched that she defended him.

Maybe his time here wouldn’t be so impossible after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi its me rose the actual author of this fic i stole the acc >:) wuv u guys follow our tumblr @mar1garden were a bunch of chapters ahead there

Marinette was having a Week. She was exhausted and sore and just having a bit of a time in general. Monday had brought a heap of homework on top of an early morning akuma, followed by a late night akuma. Beside all of that, Alya had been recording way too close to the action and nearly gotten herself killed, forcing Ladybug to risk her neck to save her.

Tuesday had been no better. Lila had told the class that she was dating some American celebrity, and Marinette’s responding eyeroll caused her to be ridiculed by the class all day. That late night akuma meant she had only barely finished the science homework before class started, and of course the instant Mme. Mendeliev walked in, she declared a pop quiz. Marinette was sure she had failed it. At least she didn’t have science homework that night.

On Wednesday, Alya had started an argument about Ladybug. In the public opinion, there was no argument- Alya thought Chat and Ladybug were in love, while Lila thought it was one-sided and Ladybug was pining for her partner. Neither was true, of course, but Marinette hadn’t bothered to give her two cents. Nevertheless, the argument had continued throughout the day. Marinette was almost disappointed no akuma came to interrupt. At least then she would have had something to do while she pointedly ignored her class.

Thursday was almost worse. She had stayed up late finishing a project and some commissions, so she came to school bone tired. Lila bragged again about this celebrity boyfriend- David or Derek or something- and this led Alya to restart the argument from yesterday. Honestly, when would that girl stop trying to convince the world that Ladybug and Chat Noir were in love?

Mari was exhausted all day, barely registering the new student. She answered his questions and was perfectly polite, but she really just wanted to get the day over with already. The bell rang and she was almost home free, but then. Adrien Agreste. Marinette could tell from the second she looked up that he was going to lecture her, but for the life of her she could not figure out what she’d done wrong today. Of course, when he brought up the new kid, Mari ran right out of Socialization Juice. She snapped at him, grabbed her bag, and went to the locker room to get the rest of her stuff. She honestly could not care less about anything other than caffeine or sleep right then, so when she opened her locker to collect the rest of her books, she didn’t even notice a girl standing by the door to the room.

Lila stepped forwards as Mari tried to leave. “Going somewhere?” she asked mockingly. A cruel smile played across her lips, and she took a step towards Marinette threateningly.

“Yep,” Mari responded, sidestepping Lila and leaving, “home.” The boss battle music cut off as she breezed out the doors, leaving Lila sputtering behind her. She knew logically that she would end up paying for that, but that was a problem for future Mari. Present Mari was going to go home and take a nap if it was the last thing she did.

Of course, lunch was never long enough. She elected to nap instead of eating, and she was thankful for the extra hour of sleep. She was more focused in the second half of the day, finally managing to get the new kid’s name and keep it in her head for more than a minute.

It was the last class of the day when Damien turned to her once more to ask her a question. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, how much do you know about Paris’s heroes?”

She blinked at him. “Wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir? I know about as much as anyone, I suppose. What do you need to know?” she responded quietly, still cautious to disturb the class.

“Do you know how they get their powers? What their powers are?” he asked with a tone of urgency. She assumed he was uncertian of his safety in Paris; after all, he had only been there a short while. Had he even been through an akuma attack?, she wondered.

“I’m not sure how they get their powers, though I know the power comes from their Miraculous. Ladybug has the power of the Lucky Charm, which helps her find a solution in tricky situations. She also has the Miraculous Ladybug, which resets everything to how it was before the akuma. Chat Noir has the power of Cataclysm, which allows him to destroy anything he touches.” She smiled at him, trying to make it seem like she wasn’t speaking first-hand. Thankfully, he just nodded.

“And Akumas, what are those? Why are there so many? How are they made?” Damien asked question after question, and Mari answered as best she could without giving away her identity. Eventually, she stilled with an idea.

“Hang on. Would you rather ask Ladybug these questions directly? I might be able to contact her and set up a meeting,” Marinette offered, smiling at him. He blinked incredulously at her.

“You can? Is she not difficult to track down? I suspect heroes are more elusive than civilians.” Damien seemed disbelieving. Mari pouted at him slightly.

“If I could get someone an interview a year ago, I should be able to get you a conversation,” she responded. Speaking as if Ladybug was an entirely different person was second nature, and a surefire way to make sure Damien didn’t suspect her. Plus, she could answer him better if she didn’t have to worry about her identity. “Here, give me your number. Text me when you’re free and I’ll see if she is too. It’ll be fine.” His number programmed into her phone, the final bell rang and the class filtered out the door.

That afternoon, Mari texted Damien so he would have her number as well. He responded with possible meeting times, and she was glad to see that she was free for most of them. She sent him a time to meet Ladybug at the Eiffel Tower before transforming and swinging over.

When she landed on the second level of the tower, she was glad to see that she was the first one there. Damien, she suspected, was not one to appreciate tardiness. When the elevator dinged open behind her, she turned to Damien with a professional smile. “So, you’re the new kid Marinette told me about? She said you were curious about us and Hawkmoth; what do you need to know?”

Damien blinked. “She really does know you,” he whispered. Marinette had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at his lack of faith. He continued at a normal volume as if he hadn’t said anything. “I have a few questions that she couldn’t answer. How do you get your powers? How does Hawkmoth get his? Why do you release the butterflies instead of keeping them away from him?”

“My powers, as well as Chat’s, Hawkmoth’s, and Mayura’s, come from our miraculous. Mine is the miraculous of the Ladybug. I’m imbued with luck and healing powers. Chat has the miraculous of the Black Cat. He has bad luck and destructive powers. Hawkmoth stole the broach of the Butterfly and the pin of the Peafowl. He has the power to create Champions or, in his case, Akumas. Mayura has the power to create Guardians or, in her case, Amoks.” She went on, explaining all she would to a normal civilian. She still wasn’t quite sure she could trust him, but he didn’t seem ill intentioned.

They went back and forth, question and explanation, until Damien couldn’t think of any more questions. She bid him adieu and went to patrol the city before heading home for the night to finish up her tasks for the next day.

That night, she found herself awake at a late hour, wondering why she had been so quick to trust Damien despite what she’d been through with the class. She chalked it up to her instincts and left the topic for another day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> take this a day early gfjfgjsghgshsg here ya go folks, back to dami's pov

Damien was beginning to Suspect Things.

His suspicions weren’t unfounded, either. His seatmate, the bouncy-nonbouncy baker girl, had set up a meeting with Ladybug easily. Too easily. He had looked into the other girl, the Ladyblogger, and found the video that made her blog famous: an interview with Ladybug herself. One Marinette had likely set up, if it was indeed the one she had mentioned. He kept seeing Ladybug’s face and something itched in the back of his mind. He was trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle in a dark room, and he knew how the pieces fit together but he just couldn’t find the right ones.

The feeling was so irritating he had called Dick about it. Damien had been told to call and brief the family every night anyways, and he had decided to knock out two birds with one stone. As soon as Dick picked up, Damien groaned internally to see the entire family crowded around the phone. He had come to Paris to investigate, but also so he only had to deal with one brother at a time. It seemed a foolish hope, now.

Midway through the call, Jason had whispered something to Tim that caused the boy to pause suspiciously before cackling. Damien narrowed his eyes and stopped in the middle of his sentence. “Todd, anything to add?” he asked, glaring at his older brother. Jason merely snickered.

“Nope! All good here, baby bro. Tell us more about this Marinette girl,” he added. This only caused Tim to laugh harder. He had fallen to the ground by now, his lanky frame off camera. Damien’s glare intensified, all suspicions of baker’s daughters and bugs forgotten momentarily.

“What. Do. You. Mean. By. That. Todd?” he hissed out, staring daggers through the screen. He heard Tim’s laughter die down, while Jason’s only increased.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just bittersweet. One day away from your family and our baby bro already has his first crush!” Tim answered for Jason, who had, in turn, collapsed in laughter upon seeing Damien’s patented Death Glare™️. Damien flushed a bright red and instantly hung up, considering blocking the number. He realized it would be a monumentally bad idea, but he still considered it.

“I don’t have a crush on her,” he mumbled to himself. “She’s just… useful, that’s all.” He fell asleep glaring at the wall, his phone flung across the room when Dick had tried to call him back.

Useful. That was all.

The next morning, as he walked into class, Damien’s scowl was more intense than usual. When he sat down, his deskmate took notice. Instead of shrinking back, like any normal person would have upon seeing his glower, she nodded sympathetically and moved her breakfast so it was sitting between them, a silent invitation. It was a box of baked goods, still warm and tantalizing. Damien was about to push the box back with a glower, but then the smell wafted up to him. He sighed in begrudging gratefulness and reluctantly took what looked like a scone and smelled like a coffee cake from the box.

Upon biting into it, Damien reconsidered every single time he had told people he “didn’t like sweets.” The scone was amazing. It was light and well balanced and warm. Cinnamon, brown sugar, coffee, and the small amount of chocolate drizzled on top brought Damien his first moment of peace all week.

“How is it?” Marinette asked quietly after he had come back to Earth finished the first bite. “My parents are trying out some new menu items.” She smiled patiently at him as he wiped crumbs from the side of his mouth, trying to look as dignified as possible while doing so. He met her gaze.

“It’s alright,” he responded before finishing the scone off. She giggled over his shoulder, and he realized it was the first time she’d seemed happy since he’d met her. If Damien wanted to keep her as an ally and source of information, he’d need her to be happy more often, lest she become akumatized. She had told him yesterday that negative emotions were what the villain preyed on, and he didn’t want to see Marinette as a villain.

He quietly assured himself that that was the only reason he wanted to hear her laugh like that again.

When she had overcome her fit of laughter, she smiled at him. “That’s the most blasé response to my parent’s baking that I’ve heard in a long time,” she told him, still giggling a little, “but somehow I feel like it’s high praise coming from you.” He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow slightly as he fought down a blush.

“Oh? And how do you figure that?” he asked, looking at her as disapprovingly as he could manage. The effect, he suspected, was slightly diminished due to the way his eyes darted back towards the box, but he restrained himself from taking another pastry. That would only prove her point, and he was nothing if not stubborn.

She rolled her eyes in response. “Oh, no reason,” she hummed demurely. He was about to snipe back, but the teacher walked into the room. As class started, he dared a peek over to his benchmate. He had looked just in time to see her nudge the box a bit closer to him.

Damien glowered at nothing as he took another scone.

The rest of the day was uneventful, in his eyes. The class remained idiots as the liar did her thing. He was content to ignore her, until he heard something that made him do a physical, actual double take.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything, but you guys remember how I told you all I’m dating Damien Wayne? And the day after, this transfer student from America named Damien just happens to join the class? I don’t want to accuse anyone of anything, but… I think Marinette might have hired him to pretend to be Damien so she can call me a liar again,” the liar sobbed. An army of idiots instanly appeared at her side to comfort her, placing gentle arms around her shoulders. The blonde boy from yesterday, who Damien now recognized as Adrien Agreste, was the first to comfort her. He looked just as self righteous and annoying as Damien remembered him.

Damien blinked. She was accusing him of being paid off to pretend to be… himself? Just how stupid was this class?

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice his deskmate was gone until he heard the door slam shut behind her.

As she ran, he noticed the liar slip out after her, and before he could process what he was doing, he was slinking out after them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my baby girl is all grown up and fighting akumas ;-;

Marinette was so tired.

She had slept for the first time that week Thursday night, but now it was Friday morning and she wanted nothing more than to remain curled tight in a bundle of blankets. Tikki was sitting on her pillow, incessantly telling her to get up. Mari sighed and rolled out of bed, remembering the new kid. If she skipped today, that would give Lila ample time to get her hooks into him. That was the last thing Marinette wanted.

As she walked into François Dupont, Marinette sipped her coffee. She was balancing her breakfast precariously on one hand while drinking with the other, a feat her classmates would not have though her capable of, even before Lila. She frowned into her coffee as she slid into her seat.

Marinette was the first one there, which was quickly becoming the norm. Her friends were no longer eating up all her time with free commissions and ambushed date plans, so she was able to focus more fully on her real responsibilities: class president-ing, being Ladybug and the Guardian, and paid commissions. Though she hadn’t yet tracked down Hawkmoth, she had found more leads. Any scrap of information helped.

These were the thoughts that occupied her mind as her new deskmate glared and scowled his way up the stairs. She understood that feeling. Very much. In her moment of sympathy for the boy, she slid her box of pastries across the desk. The new menu was something she had helped with, and she was quite proud of some of the products of their shared labor.

As her grumpy deskmate visibly cheered up from the pastry, she had expected a compliment she could pass on to her parents. Damien, however, was quickly proving to be more stoic than she had expected. His stonefacedness was undermined by the way he glanced back at the box of pastries, and Marinette, mostly sleep deprived and mildly loopy, cackled.

And so the day went, shared pastries and all. Marinette was easily able to tune out the class for most of the day, listening to Ms. Bustier as she taught. She was sure she was one of the only students who was actually paying any attention to the lesson, but so be it. This was why she consistenly scored highest on tests, despite her extracurricular activities.

The class’ usual whispering was unusually thick that day, so in the final class period before she could leave the school for the comfort of the bakery, Marinette decided to tune in just a bit. She could stand to hear some of what Lila was saying about her.

…or not. It was one thing for Lila to come after her- she knew Lila was lying and had called her out. But for her to come for Damien? He hadn’t done anything wrong! He hadn’t even chosen to sit next to her!

Marinette stormed out of class. She couldn’t stand to hear Lila spread lies about someone just because he had the audacity to be assigned the seat next to her. She had stopped trying to call Lila out months ago, and at this point, it seemed her only crime was existing. She ran to the locker room, hearing footsteps behind her. Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to care who it was.

Once she made it to the locker room, Marinette took a second to calm her breathing. She couldn’t afford to be akumatized, and she needed to get control of her emotions.

All thoughts of calm fled her mind as Lila walked through the door. The girls glared at each other, neither noticing the boy hiding just out of sight to observe.

“Oh, Marinette, what’s wrong?” Lila asked in an exaggeratedly sweet voice. The sugar seeping from the edges of her words was over the top and crude, nothing like the polished voices she used in class. “Aww, did the poor girl finally feel the consequences of her actions? Did little Marinette find out that the power of friendship couldn’t save her this time?” Lila simpered mockingly. The pity dropped from her face like a bowling ball falling off a shelf to set off a Rube Goldberg machine. “Face it, Marinette. I’ve won. There’s no one in class who’ll stand up for you, and once I get rid of your little prettyboy and/or start dating him, there won’t even be anyone who’ll talk to you. I win. You have no friends, no life. If I see any sign that the little deskmate duo are sharing secrets about the verity of certain things a certain girl might be saying, I’ll kill his social life before it starts. I’ll make both your lives a living hell. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Lila smirked triumphantly at Marinette.

Marinette simply glared back. “Listen, Liar Rossi. I’ve let you spew your bs because this whole time, I was the only one getting hurt. I didn’t tell Damien anything. He didn’t do anything wrong. I won’t let you bully an innocent person. Get your lying, metaphorical hands off him before I hurt you for real. Am I understood?” She rose to Lila’s level and stared the girl down. Lila met her gaze for all of ten seconds before she whimpered and left the room. Once Marinette was sure she was gone, she crumpled to the floor, sobbing quietly.

It was then that Damien decided to approach. He entered the room quietly, not wanting to startle Marinette, but she heard his footsteps. She looked up and met his eyes, but then she heard something.

Something that could only be the flapping of a butterfly’s wings.

Marinette hastened to place herself between the akuma and Damien. She glared steadily at it, tears long forgotten.

“Damien, this is an akuma. You need to stay calm, okay? Hawkmoth can only akumatize people if they have strong negative emotions.” She continued to glare at the akuma. “Hawkmoth relies on being your last resort. He can’t get you if you have another plan.” She smirked at the akuma. “I always have another plan. Damien, you seem like a planner to me. You got this?” Marinette heard him hum affirmatively. The butterfly fluttered away, and only then did she turn to Damien. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking him over in concern.

“Am I okay? Me, the one who was perfectly fine? How did you manage to calm down so fast? How did you not get akumatized?” A flurry of questions spilled out of him. Marinette was about to respond when a loud crash shook the building.

“Oh, shit.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, mari being a bamf and damian being a Human Person, as we all need 100% of the time

Damien reacted the instant he heard the crash echo through the building. Having lived the life he had, he was no stranger to life-threatening situations. This case, however, was unfamiliar to him for several reasons. The first was that the villain wasn’t entirely a villain of their own accord.

The second was that he wasn’t actually the hero, in this situation.

These were his musings as Marinette pulled him down the hall quickly. She came to an abrupt stop and turned to face him. From her expression, he could guess what she was about to say.

“No. Absolutely not. No chance,” he said before she could open her mouth.

“She’s after me,” Marinette began, speaking urgently over his protests. “We have to split up. You’ll be safer away from me,” she added apologetically. “Lila didn’t see you. You should be off her radar. Just… stay put, okay? I’m gonna find Ladybug. Or Lila. Help and/or a distraction is on the way, just stay here.” And with that, she tripped him with surprising strength and grace into a broom closet as he protested. He heard the lock click as her footsteps quickly receded.

“Great,” he muttered to himself. “Juuust great. First attack in Paris and I’ve been locked in a broom closet. Can’t even observe…” He continued to grumble quietly as the sound of destruction went on outside the door. Suddenly, the door was pulled open. The spotted superheroine looked inside, nodding when she saw Damien.

“She said you’d be here. Let’s get you to a shelter so I can defeat the akuma, okay?” Ladybug made it clear that this was a rhetorical question when she picked him up like he weighed less than a feather and made for the rooftops.

Damien scowled. He wasn’t used to being the one carried in this manner, and he was sure he didn’t like it. Who knew how much information he could get if he was in the shelter, much less what he was meant to report back to his family. ‘Oh, I saw one of the villains attack, but then I was brought to a civilian shelter by a less experienced hero so she could save the day instead!’ He’d never live it down.

“Miss Ladybug?” he asked, looking back towards the school. “Is there any way I can stay and help? I’d prefer to get a feeling for how dangerous these villains are, and I can’t do that from the shelter.” He tried to make his tone as polite as possible. It appeared to have worked somewhat, as she looked him over curiously and appraisingly before responding.

“While I appreciate the offer, you’d be safer in a shelter watching the live stream that that Ladyblogger is inevitably going to nearly die for. While I might be lenient in other circumstances, this akuma is Lila Rossi, a dangerous individual when normal. Every Akuma form of her is cunning and cruel. She’s chaotic, and she’s actively malicious. It’s hard enough to defeat her without worrying about one more citizen.” She met his gaze, stilling on a rooftop for a moment. “I understand the want to help. You can help by staying put at the shelter.” She lifted him again, set him at the doors to the safehouse, and swung off to defeat the akuma, leaving Damien to ponder her words.

He did end up watching the live stream. The Ladyblogger was close to the action, but poorly hidden. The akuma, Homewrecker, wanted to get revenge on Marinette for trying to break up Lila and her boyfriend. She grew larger with her audience, which took Ladybug a while to realize. When she did, she broke Alya’s phone immediately.

“Of course,” Damien whispered, “the live stream.”

Seven minutes later, a tidal wave of ladybugs swept over the city. Before everything was back to normal, Damien was already jogging back towards the school. He needed to speak with Ladybug or Marinette, and he was sure they were both at the school.

When he arrived, Ladybug was just swinging off. He called her down before she could leave, and she grinned at him as she hopped down in front of him.

“Damien. Thank you for staying where you were. It was easier to fight her with one fewer person to worry about.” She held out her hand for a handshake, and he returned her grin as he shook it.

“Any time, Ladybug. But that’s not… why I called you here. What you said about Rossi… does anyone else know?” he asked tentatively.

“Chat Noir is aware of everything she’s done. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is aware of some of itc as is Adrien Agreste. No civilians know the full extent of her actions.” She looked at him warily. “Why do you ask?”

“The class I’m in, they don’t seem particularly… bright. Not one of them distrusts her, save those you mentioned, despite the obvious falsehood of her claims. If you were to tell them this, it would save them a lot of future pain.” Damien looked at Ladybug, really looked at her, and he felt a tickle in the back of his mind. She really did look so familiar…

Ladybug shook her head at him, jarring him back to the present. “I can’t reveal her like that. It’d cause a mass Akumatization, just like Heroes’ Day. I couldn’t do a fight like that again with my current allies.” She blinked as a beeping rung out. “I have to go. Goodbye, Damien,” she added as she swung away.

Damien watched her go before heading back to school. As Marinette had told him yesterday, school let out early after akuma attacks so students could calm down. He wanted to catch Marinette before she went home for the day. Maybe she could clear up the actual events of the fight; it was likely, after all, that she had stayed at school to help as best she could.

Damien scoffed to himself. That girl truly was too selfless for her own good.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heyo folks!!! it's me!!!!!! rosie!!!!!!! welcome to the fic!!!!!!

Marinette was inclined towards introspection. However, she didn’t quite have the time for it at the moment, no matter how hectic the past week had been and how much she wished to unpack it. Her thoughts at present consisted mainly of ‘Oh shit! Akuma!’ as she sprinted away from the storage closet she had locked Damien in.

Once she had found somewhere safe to transform, she returned to save the boy. Ladybug had some difficulty getting Damien to stay put at a shelter, but he had eventually relented, allowing her to swing back to François Dupont as quickly as possible. She searched for the akuma, which wasn’t much of a task, as Lila seemed to be allowed her flair for the dramatic every time she was akumatized. This form was ginormous and terrifying, but slow. Hawkmoth never learns, it seems, that elegance in design is the only way to win.

However, a Lucky Charm and an unhelpful partner later, Ladybug was hidden in an alley, formulating a plan. Chat Noir was leaning on the wall next to her, flirting relentlessly.

“You always look so beautiful when you’re planning, my lady,” he commented, smiling dopily at her. She took an uncomfortable step away as the last part of her plan clicked in her mind. Luckily (hah) for her, it was one she didn’t need Chat’s help for. He had, during the rest of the fight, been trailing behind her, oscillating between flirting and berating her for ‘standing him up’ the night before. She had, of course, explicitly told him that she wouldn’t go on a date with him when he’d asked her out (again), but apparently Chat didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’.

Without another word, Ladybug swung into action, tripping Lila up and hog-tying her with her yoyo. The akuma purified, Ladybug turned to leave only to run into Chat. She glared up at him, annoyed and frustrated in equal measure.

“What do you want, Chat?” she asked, venom in her voice and her gaze. The cat simply met her gaze, daring, even, to take a step towards her.

“M’Lady, why were you so mean to Lila? You know she can’t help her actions when she’s akumatized.” He looked at her in disappointment, completely missing her glare.

“I wasn’t mean to her, Chat. I was deakumatizing her. You know, our entire job as Miraculous wielders?” she said, fighting to keep her own rage down. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a civilian to check up on.” With that, she swung away, oblivious to the hungry eyes watching her leave.

Once Damien was safe, Marinette hid and detransformed. She breathed a sigh of relief as she left the alleyway; Damien was her only ally against Lila at the moment, and she was glad that he had been more concerned for her wellbeing than Lila’s when he had walked into the locker room.

As Marinette headed home, she passed College François Dupont. She noticed Damien sitting on the steps, fiddling with his phone. She walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Damien! School is out for the day; you know that, right?” she asked him, smiling teasingly. She hoped simultaneously that he would and would not ask her about what had happened in the locker room. As his eyes met hers, she realized the intensity of his gaze meant there was no way this conversation was ending without him finding out what had happened in the locker room.

“Marinette. I was aware school was out; I was actually waiting for you. Could I ask you something?” She blinked at how polite his tone was. It contrasted with his grumpy expression, and she found it oddly soothing.

“I… sure. I suppose what harm could come of it already has.” Marinette smiled weakly at him as she sat beside him on the step. He smiled back in what she assumed was meant to be a soothing manner, and her heart skipped a beat. That gave her pause, but she was engaged in conversation. She would have to evaluate it later.

“Marinette… in the locker room, you stood up to Lila easily. Why don’t you do that in the classroom? She’s clearly hurting you, why don’t you do something?” Marinette nodded as she processed the question and formulated an answer that wouldn’t hurt her classmates.

“I suppose it’s because I’m scared. It’s easy to stand up to her alone because all of her power comes from her lackies. Standing up to just her is easy, but standing up to the whole class by myself? Not so much. Think me a coward if you want, but that’s the truth.” Marinette looked down at her hands as she spoke, not willing to meet Damien’s eyes. She saw him bump her knee with his own, a move she suspected was once more an attempt to comfort her.

“That’s alright. It doesn’t have anything to do with that Blondie, then, does it?” he asked, a teasing tone entering his question. Marinette stifled a snort at the question and returned his knee bump.

“Adrien… is passive to a fault. I don’t blame him for not wanting to expose Lila: her akuma forms are always powerful and often terrifying. I just wish he would stand up for me instead of giving me false promises of him being ‘on my side’. You know?” She looked up and met his gaze, finding Damien’s eyes to be much kinder than she remembered them. Her heart fluttered again.

“Ah. I see. Well then, I suppose you could use an ally, could you not, Miss Dupain-Cheng?” he asked, smiling at her. Marinette grinned back thankfully.

“Would you like to come over? I know you sampled some of the new menu, but there’s a lot of other pastries I think you would like.”

Damien stood and held out a hand, lifting her to her feet. “I’d love to.”

An hour later, the two were sitting in Marinette’s living room, playing Ultimate Mecha Strike 3. Marinette was beating Damien heavily, but she thought he was one of the best opponents she’d faced in a while. She told his as much, and his ensuing reaction allowed her to win the level. He had blushed and mumbled something she couldn’t hear before turning back to the screen, only to see his bot’s health bar reach 0.

As he groaned and griped about her distracting him with compliments, Marinette giggled. “Are you accusing me of cheating, monsieur? I would never!” she gasped, dramatically collapsing against the arm of the couch. Damien laughed from the other end of the couch.

“Mademoiselle, I would do no such thing! I was simply questioning your methods,” he responded, smiling at her. Marinette laughed and sat up, picking up her controller.

“You up for another round? Ready to lose again?” she asked, grinning triumphantly at him. Damien hummed affirmatively and the two began another match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that we have many more chapters as well as a bunch of other fics over at @mar1garden on tumblr!!!!


	7. Chapter 7

Damien was in trouble, he knew that much. In fact, he was absolutely, positively, 100% certain that he was not going to survive the night.

Why, you ask? Oh, no reason. Just that the single cutest, sweetest girl he had ever met had dozed off about ten minutes ago and was now leaning on his shoulder, fast asleep.

Damien was stuck. He couldn’t move, because that would wake her up; he couldn’t wake her up, because that would be a criminal crime. So he was stuck.

It didn’t help, of course, that they were in her room instead of the lower floor. After she had thoroughly beaten him at UMS3, they had gone up to watch a movie on her laptop. The bed had more room than the chaise, and Marinette had blushed a pale pink when she had suggested it. Damien hadn’t been able to say no. So here he was, sitting on an incredibly pink bed with a laptop set across his and Marinette’s legs, playing the end credits of the movie they’d been watching. And Marinette was cuddling with him.

Damien was positive his face had never been redder. This fact became more and more accurate as Marinette curled into him a bit more, shivering. He set an arm carefully around her shoulders, a millisecond away from actually combusting.

Suddenly, he heard a thump on Marinette’s balcony. He looked through her trapdoor’s window and saw Chat Noir standing there, looking down at them.

Marinette had awoken when he had hit the balcony. She looked around, turning an adorable pink when she noticed her situation. Damien hastily removed his arm from her shoulders.

“Sorry! You were shivering, I thought you were cold.” He smiled weakly at her, also blushing. She smiled fondly back.

“I probably was. Thank you, Damien. Now, it seems we have a guest to greet,” she responded, glancing up at the cat. As the two of them ascended to the balcony, Chat Noir’s expression only grew darker.

“Princess, who is this?” Chat asked, raising an eyebrow at Damien, who was glaring at him.

“Chat, this is my friend Damien! He’s new in town, he just joined my class recently! We were having a movie night and I guess I fell asleep,” she giggled awkwardly, one hand moving to fiddle with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Damien fought down a blush. Marinette probably didn’t realize how much friendship meant to him, that’s all. He struggled to not overthink it.

“A friend, hm? From here, the two of you looked pretty cuddly to me.” Chat looked over Damien appraisingly, an eyebrow arched under his mask. Damien and Marinette both colored further at the reminder.

“I assure you, Monsieur Noir, that Marinette had simply fallen asleep. I’m sure she was cold, so close to the wind with no blankets, no? Is it any wonder she moved closer to the nearest heat source?” Damien put as much of his father’s voice into his as he could, arching an eyebrow back at the alley cat.

Chat backed down. “I see,” he answered, looking at Marinette. “Is that all that happened, Princess?” he asked her, Damien forgotten.

“Yes, Chat, geez. But why do you even care? I thought you were in love with Ladybug!” Marinette replied, rolling her eyes.

“I am!” he defended, reeling back indignantly. “I just wanted to make sure my favorite purr-incess was okay,” he continued.

“I’m fine. Was that all you dropped by for, Chat?” Marinette asked, looking like she wanted him to leave.

“I also wanted to see if you’d be up for a few rounds of UMS3?” the brat cat implored, clearly expecting an instant yes.

“Actually, I was planning on heading to bed, Chat,” Marinette said, the consonants sounding harsh in her clearly annoyed tone. “It is, after all, fairly late.”

“Very well, princess! Just make sure to grab a blanket this time; wouldn’t want you to get cold,” he responded, glaring at Damien.

Damien rolled his eyes. Just who did this annoying cat think he was? He was clearly in love with Marinette, and while Damien couldn’t fault his taste, he could fault his methods.

“Sure, Chat,” Marinette responded, stepping towards the door. “Have a nice night!” And with that, her and Damien descended into her room.

Once the trap door closed behind him, Damien turned to Marinette. “Should I go? I’d hate to overstay my welcome, and it is getting late,” he fretted, moving towards the door.

Marinette stepped towards him. “I don’t mind you staying! If you want to leave, feel free, but don’t feel pressured to!” she responded, smiling kindly at him. Damien felt his cheeks redden and he looked away.

“I- I suppose I’d like to stay, then,” he answered, stepping back towards her. At her responding grin, Damien felt the last of his denial slip away.

He was definitely screwed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for uploading this one late!!! love you guys, go check out mar1garden on tumblr for more chapters and other fics!!

It was Saturday and Marinette had, for some godforsaken reason, not slept in. She had, instead, woken up early and started a new dress. She liked to create when she was stressed, and right now, she was incredibly stressed.

Why, exactly, was Marinette incredibly stressed, you ask? Oh, simple: she had gotten over one useless, timewasting crush only to fall hard for the first person to show her kindness. So she was making a pattern based on measurements she knew by heart and cutting bolts of fabric silently as Damian slept. She got into her groove, cutting the fabric and placing it on top of the pattern. Once every piece was cut, she selected a thread color and cut a length for herself, but before she could begin to sew, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“AGH! Oh, it’s just you,” Marinette reacted, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you wake up,” she continued apologetically.

Damian smiled wryly. “Nor did you hear me call your name, it seems,” he responded, sitting down on the chaise. Marinette giggled.

“Sorry. I got kinda in the zone, so I wasn’t really focused on my surroundings.” She set down her needle and turned to face Damian, grinning. He blushed slightly and looked away.

“I, uh, wanted to ask if you’d like to get some ice cream with me today?” he asked awkwardly, meeting her gaze once more.

“Oh, sure! What time were you thinking?” Marinette responded, checking the time.

Damian thought for a second. He did need to call his father with updates… “Does noon sound reasonable?”

“Sure thing!” She smiled at him from her desk chair.

“I’ll see you then,” he answered, and with that, he was gone.

Once Damian had left, Marinette got ready. She selected the perfect outfit for the day- something flirty, but sweet. It was her own design, obviously, and it was fairly well made. Once she was dressed, she decided to forgo makeup until later so she could finish her dress. She asked her parents to let her know when it was 11:30 so she would have time to do makeup before she met up with Damian.

As she began to sew, she grew slightly melancholy. She was so used to making things for Alya that she had drawn the pattern up in her measurements. Even the design screamed Alya: a tulip skirt, an off-the-shoulder top. The soft pastel orange fabric she’d chosen. Marinette’s subconscious was drawing her back towards her best friend and it hurt because, as far as she knew, Alya was firmly under Lila’s thumb. Marinette sighed and set her needle down, mildly dejected.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her trap door. She called the person in, and for a split second, she hoped it would be Alya climbing up, apologizing and asking for forgiveness. But, of course, it was simply her mother letting her know that it was 11:30, just as she’d asked her to.

Marinette quickly did her makeup and went to meet Damian, forgetting her worries for the moment. She ignored the quiet twinge in her stomach when she looked over herself in the mirror and had no one to ask how she looked.

Once she’d arrived at their scheduled meeting place, Marinette waited for Damian. He was exactly on time, as she’d suspected he’d be, and he was looking around the area. She waved a hand at him to get his attention, and he quickly walked over. 

“Hey, Damian! So, when you said ice cream, did you mean an actual parlor or Andre’s?” Marinette asked, smiling at him. His cheeks pinkened slightly, but she was sure it was from the sun.

“Andre’s?” he questioned. Marinette blinked and then giggled, though it was more at herself than at Damian.

“Andre Glacier is an ice cream maker who rides around Paris! He’s kind of hard to find, but his ice cream is phenomenal. We should find him so you’re an official Parisian!” she responded, grabbing Damian’s hand as she moved towards the last place people had seen Andre: the Pont des Arts bridge. Damian had probably replied, but it was lost to the wind as the two moved quickly towards each location people found Andre at.

Eventually, the two caught up to him at the Trocadero. It was barely 12:30; they’d made good time! As they walked up to his cart, Marinette realized she was still holding Damian’s hand and quickly let go, flushing a pale pink. Andre noticed them and smiled knowingly at Marinette.

“Ah! Marinette, my young friend! Who’s this new boy? What’ll be his blend?” Andre rhymed, flipping his ice cream scoop. “Blackberry for your hair, almond for his skin, blueberry for your eyes and the beauty within!” He handed them an ice cream to share as Marinette blushed further. Damian seemed unbothered, though that was likely because he didn’t know the true significance of sharing an ice cream from Andre’s. The pair walked a ways away and sat on a bench overlooking the gardens. 

“Sorry about him,” Marinette started sheepishly. “He’s very kind, and he means well, but he’s a bit overenthusiastic when it comes to my social life.” She smiled at Damian and took a spoonful of the ice cream. Damian smiled back.

“It’s truly no bother, Marinette. In all honesty, I find it quite impressive that you’re friends with what seems to be half the city.” He took a spoonful of the ice cream for himself.

Mari smiled sadly at the compliment-turned-reminder. “Not quite half, I don’t think,” she commented, more to herself than him. Suddenly, from somewhere nearby, Marinette heard a familiar voice cry out in surprise. 

“MARINETTE??”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >:3

Damian’s day, thus far, had actually been going… acceptably. He’d woken up in an unfamiliar bed to the sound of scissors, which had put him on edge until he realized where he was: Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s bedroom. He looked over the side of her bed to see her, sitting at her desk as she cut fabric. He smiled gently at the vision she was, framed softly by sunlight and humming quietly. He quickly realized the saccharine expression overtaking his face and made a conscious effort to scowl, but it was difficult in the face of the angel in front of him. As he heard himself think the endearment, he actually did scowl. How quickly had this city made him soft?

He knew, however, that it wasn’t the city that had softened the shell around his heart, but rather the girl before him. He’d climbed down the ladder and gotten her attention, intending to make his escape before all of his walls disappeared.

After seeing her face, he ended up asking her out.

As Damian walked back to his temporary house, he mused that Marinette’s bakery had felt more like a home to him than anywhere else in this country. He pinched himself for thinking such sappy things. This was a mission; he should be acting more professionally than this. Yet as Damian entered his house, he remembered her face when he’d asked her out and found himself blushing. He sighed in frustration before calling Dick to catch the family up on all that he’d learned.

When Dick picked up, the whole family was once again crowded around the camera. Damian scowled at them, but it felt insincere- he was simply too happy from his visit with Marinette to muster up a real scowl. That thought gave him pause. He was… too happy. He was happy. When was the last time he’d been happy?

Damian caught the family up on all the superhero information he’d learned, but it was like he wasn’t there at all. His brothers kept exchanging worried looks with his father. (Well, except for Jason, who was stoically pretending he didn’t care.) Once they were caught up, Bruce cleared his throat.

“That’s good to hear, Damian. Now that we have concrete proof that this is a real threat, we’ll call you back and send a full team to stop Hawkmoth,” his father reported. After a playful nudge from Dick, Bruce actually smiled at Damian. “We’re proud of you. Good work, son.”

The words echoed in his mind. We’ll call you back. We’ll call you back. He shook his head fervently. “Father, I appreciate the praise, but you cannot call me back. My mission is not complete. I haven’t tracked down Hawkmoth, not have I even attempted to establish a rapport with the heroes. I still have a duty here,” he answered. Dick and Bruce looked at each other, surprised. Tim looked as if he thought he was about to win a bet. An alarm rang on Damian’s phone.

“Ah. I’m sorry, Father, but I have a meeting to get to,” Damian said, reaching towards the End Call button.

“A meeting? With who?” Dick asked him, baffled. Damian blinked.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” he answered automatically, not considering the consequences. Tim crowed in victory while Jason sighed and handed over ten dollars. Dick grinned at him. Even Bruce had a smile forming, though he was holding it back quite well.

“Baby Bird has a date!” Dick cheered. “Oh, I knew you could do it!”

“Good job, Demon Spawn. You found someone who can tolerate you,” Jason congratulated him, looking bitterly at the ten dollars in Tim’s hand. Tim shot him a thumbs up before he returned to gloating.

“So that’s the duty you still have in Paris. You can stay, Damian. As long as she makes you happy,” his father said kindly. And as Damian was realizing, she truly did.

When he showed up to their meeting- he refused to call it a date, partially because he didn’t want to assume and partially because he couldn’t think the word without hearing Tim’s raucous laughter in his head- his jaw dropped. She had gone all-out, it seemed, though he wouldn’t be surprised to find that she had an even more beautiful outfit hidden in her closet.

She was radiant. His earlier assessment of her looking like an angel was far too on point. Damian felt himself blushing, which couldn’t be a good sign. It meant his brothers were- ugh- right, and he did have a crush on her. He’d already known this, of course, but he was deep in denial.

The date had been going well. They were having fun, and though he didn’t quite understand Andre’s quirks, he found the whole thing quite charming. He found himself reflecting on his father’s words: As long as she makes you happy. Damian found that, for the first time in a long time (possibly ever), he was happy. She made him happy. He turned to Marinette, planning on asking her on another date, but then he heard someone call out to her.

“MARINETTE??”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the date crasher is finally revealed! mari flirts and damian is a mess, enjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: it has come to my attention that this is the only chapter where mari doesnt have a phone, and i give her a working phone before and after this chapter. consider this chapter a time bubble in which mari is telling the truth about not having a phone but also she will have one both before and after this. i refuse to fix either this chapter or the other ones have a nice day

Marinette flinched when her name was yelled. She whipped her head around to see Alya, Lila, Nino, and much of the rest of the class looking at her, with Alya speedwalking towards her.

“Girl, there you are! You’re so late! Why did you bring the Ice Prince with?” Alya asked her, taking her wrist and starting to walk back towards the group.

“Uh, late for what? I’m here with Damian, we were looking for Andre,” Marinette protested, pulling her wrist from Alya’s grip.

“‘Late for what?’ Marinette, c’mon! Lila texted you that she wanted to make up! We’re throwing a picnic to show you how sorry she is! I watched her text you this!”

“Alya, Lila never texted me, or if she did, I never got it. My phone broke a while ago, I’ve been saving up for a new one. You know this, Alya!” Marinette replied, taking a step back towards Damian.

“But, Marinette,” Mylene piped up, “Lila showed us the things you texted her! You were so mean to her!” The rest of the class soon agreed, calling Lila noble for offering an olive branch despite Marinette’s attitude.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “One, I didn’t even have her number on my phone before it broke, and two, I haven’t had a phone for a month. How could I have texted her mean things?” She began to walk back towards Damian, but Alya stopped her.

“Girl, I don’t understand. What are you saying?” she asked, a curious look in her eyes.

“I’m saying that she-“ Marinette pointed to Lila, “is lying.” Lila promptly burst into tears.

“B-b-but, Marinette, I really did think it was you! The person said they were you, and you’ve been so mean to me in person- oops!” she cried out. The class turned to Marinette, bloodlust in their eyes.

Marinette was about to walk away when, suddenly, a figure appeared between her and Alya, shielding her from the class’s gaze.

“Now. Marinette has already said that she doesn’t have a phone right now. She is not the one texting you, if you have even been receiving the texts you say you have. She avoids you like the plague in school; what could she have done when she limits interaction as much as possible? Ms. Rossi, what you’re saying would be recognized as slander in a court of law,” Damian chided coldly.

“You have no right! Where’s your proof, Mr. IceCold?” Alya demanded, stepping up to him and poking him in the chest, releasing Marinette’s hand in the process. Damian smirked.

“Where’s yours, Ms. Cesaire?” he replied, and with that, he and Marinette left to finish off their date elsewhere.

Marinette mustered up a smile for Damian as they walked away, hiding tears at the accusations her best friend had leveled at her. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

When they came to a halt, Marinette realized they were back at their first stop: the Pont des Arts bridge. She blushed slightly, looking at the discolored sections of the fence where locks had once been and picturing a lock with their names on it. It was then that she realized- she didn’t know Damian’s last name!

She turned to the boy beside her. “Damian, today has been so fun, but I still feel like I know so little about you. Like, what’s your favorite color? Do you have siblings? Pets? Do you prefer chocolate or vanilla? I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

He smiled softly at her rambling. “Marinette, those are all surface-level things. If you wanted to know, you could have just asked,” he replied, looking out over the river Seine to hide his blush. She blushed in return at the profile he cut, looking over the water with the wind in his hair.

“O-okay. Damian, what’s your favorite color?” she asked, standing next to him against the fence.

“Blue,” he replied, making eye contact with her. She sputtered for a minute. Surely, that couldn’t be because of her? “What’s yours?” he countered, grinning.

“Pink,” she responded, “but green is a close second.” She grinned subtly, hoping he’d interpreted it as flirting. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Far too many. Three older brothers, all adopted, and several older sisters who may as well be. You’re an only child, right?” he asked. Marinette smiled.

“You remembered! Having older siblings sounds nice,” she replied, moving slightly closer to him against the chill of the wind.

“You can take them if you want,” Damian offered, snickering. Marinette giggled as well, a sweet counterpart to his laughter.

“I could never, monsieur! Plus, I think you would miss them if they were gone,” she added, smiling at him. “Do you have any pets?”

“Three,” he responded, and were her eyes playing tricks on her or had he moved closer as well? “I have a dog named Titus, a cat named Alfred Pennyworth, and a cow named Batcow.”

Marinette giggled at the image of the serious, calm, collected boy in front of her naming a cow Batcow. “That’s adorable!” At Damian’s responding scowl, she grinned and gently took his arm, allowing him ample opportunity to pull away if he wanted to. He didn’t. “That’s absolutely adorable, Damian, you can’t deny that. You have a pet cow, which is already cool and cute in equal measure, but you also named them after your local superhero! That’s like if I had a hamster named Hamster Noir.”

This time, she was sure she wasn’t imagining Damian’s blush. She noticed that the sun was setting, so she gently said goodbye. Just before she left, she kissed him on the cheek. Marinette grinned to herself as she walked away.


	11. Chapter 11

Damien was reflecting on his date with Marinette. His meeting with Marinette. Though he wished they hadn’t encountered their classmates, he was proud he’d had the opportunity to stand up for Marinette like that. She was quickly becoming important to him, and what was the point of being close to people if you didn’t protect them?

He growled at the memory of the tears in her eyes after the class’ cruelty. How had her once-friends turned on her so fast? They didn’t deserve her kindness, her friendship. They didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

He realized his compromised emotional state and began to take deep, calming breaths. He couldn’t allow himself to become akumatized, couldn’t make Ladybug suffer against a trained fighter. Especially with the bird-brained cat for assistance.

Thinking of Ladybug made him remember his suspicions from earlier that week. Of course, it would be awfully convenient if Marinette was Ladybug: he could worry slightly less about protecting her, he could function as a support system if she needed anyone to talk to. However, it would also be detrimental: his focus would no longer be fully on the mission. If he were brought onto the team, he would never worry about his own safety before hers, never protect himself as much as he would her. He would worry during Akuma attacks, but he could cover her absence.

Damian sighed. The possibility of Marinette, sweet, angelic Marinette, being Ladybug? It was giving him a headache. He hoped she was and he hoped she wasn’t. But her pigtails, her soft blue gaze, her quick wit and courage? If she was Ladybug… He decided not to think about it.

Instead, he thought about the date. Rather, he corrected himself, the meeting. He remembered the way her hand felt in his, the way her lips fell, soft, against his cheek. The subtle flirting she had done, the warm smile she had worn. Damian scowled internally at the dopey expression scrawling its way across his face, but he could do nothing to stop it. He feared if they were to date, he would lose his scowl entirely.

With Marinette on his mind, he set to work on completing his homework for the week. It was all information he had covered before, so the work was simple. Menial, even. He was glad for the distraction when someone knocked on his door, though he wondered how someone could have found his home.

Damian, ever cautious, looked through the peephole before he even thought about opening the door. When he saw Cesaire on his doorstep, he considered not opening it. But then he saw her expression, downcast and angry in equal measure.

He opened the door. “So. You’re here to eat crow, I assume?” he said without preamble. She looked up at him, her face tear-stricken and blotchy.

“You asked me for sources. I was so angry that anyone would even insinuate that Lila was lying. So I googled her. No sources except me. For any of her accomplishments.” Alya’s voice was choked and raw. She had been crying for some time. Possibly screaming as well. Lucky she hadn’t been akumatized.

“Why are you telling me this? I know she’s lying. She’s been lying. She lies about me almost daily, Marinette more often than that. I am not the one who’s been hurt by that,” he scowled. She had hurt Marinette. There was no way he’d forgive that. “How are you not an akuma right now?” he asked her, curious despite himself.

“I don’t know either. Hawkmoth hasn’t sent an akuma for me. Maybe he’s retiring,” she thought out loud, hopefully. “But… I’m here because I need your help. Apologizing to Mari. I owe her so many apologies right now but none of the ones I can come up with seem big enough,” she mourned. Damian scowled once again, relishing the return of his face’s primary function.

“And why would I help you, Cesaire? You’ve hurt the one person in this city I actually like. I have no reason to help you,” he concluded, moving to shut the door.

“Wait! Wait. Don’t close the door just yet. I… I know I messed up. Bad. But Marinette means so much to me. I was so cruel to her, and I don’t expect forgiveness. But I need her to know how much she matters, how wrong I was with everything I said. I need to find the words to tell her how sorry I am without making her feel like she has to forgive me.”

With that plea, Damian paused. Cesaire… Alya was trying to find a way to apologize. He’d seen the design Marinette had been making that morning. He knew how much she wanted Alya’s friendship back.

And the way she was speaking… She wanted to apologize without pressuring Marinette to forgive her. She wanted to do this to help Marinette.

Damian glowered internally as he opened the door fully. “Come in, then. I don’t have all day.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating for a while folks!!!

Marinette, once she got home from her date, practically floated up to her room and collapsed on her bed in a lump of giggles and blushing. She hummed into her pillow as she thought over the events of the day- leaving out a few minor details she called classmates, of course.

Damian had smiled at her! He’d flirted with her, unless she was severely misinterpreting something. She’d kissed his cheek!

Marinette squealed into her pillow.

But she knew she had to address the other events of the day, so she took a calming breath. She got into a meditative position Master Fu had taught her and began to think.

Once she was centered, she imagined each event of the day as a smooth stone. She picked each one up, ran her fingers over the divots in it. She knew and accepted each memory before placing it behind her. The memory of her friends’ faces when they talked about her ‘bullying’ Lila. The memory of how Alya had talked about Damian. The memory of her, standing up for herself even though she was scared.

The memory of Damian standing up for her, too.

Once Marinette had processed and come to terms with all the negatives of the day, she finished the dress she’d made for Alya. If the girl ever decided to be her friend again, it would make a nice birthday present.

The dress finished, Marinette packed it up in a cardboard box, gently folding the soft fabric so it wouldn’t wrinkle too bad.

One task done, Marinette turned to her corkboard and, slowly but surely, began to remove pictures. Everyone who had hurled insults at her, who had sided instantly with Lila, she removed pictures of. Even the majority of Adrien’s pictures were torn from the wall.

Instead, she pinned up little sketches, ideas for future designs. She decided to make Damian a new outfit as thanks and began sketching it up, planning to get his measurements the next time she saw him. One task after another, Marinette dutifully kept herself from thinking about her classmates. As she drew the last line on the outfit she’d planned, she breathed a deep sigh.

Spinning in her chair to face the window, Marinette contemplated. Should she stay in her room and have a well-needed conversation with her kwami, or should she run across the street to the park and sketch out in the fresh air?

Was it really any question?

As she settled down on her usual bench, the afternoon sun warmed her face. The trees cast odd shadows across her sketchpad, but she didn’t mind. She simply kept drawing out version after version of similar outfits. Suddenly, new inspiration struck her. Damian was from Gotham- she could make hero-themed outfits to remind him of home!

Marinette began planning, her pencil flying across the paper. Small details were penciled in along the sides, little notes about colors and fabrics forming in the margins. She smiled and looked up before realizing just how late it had become. It was nearly time for her to be home, so she picked up her stuff and started on her way.

Before she could make it across the street, a familiar voice called out to her.

“Marinette! Oh, this is perfect! I’ve been meaning to talk to you!” Adrien called, jogging towards her.

“Um, Adrien, can it wait? I need to be home soon,” she responded, taking a step back towards the road.

“Oh, this is important though!” he replied, catching up to her. “We can walk and talk if you really need to go!”

“O-okay. Let’s walk and talk then. What did you need to talk about?” she asked, deliberately walking slightly quicker than her normal pace. She felt annoyance prick at her when he fell into step with her easily.

“Well, I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you for following my advice!” he said cheerily, sounding like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“Oh?” Marinette asked, dark amusement coloring the edges of her voice. Adrien didn’t notice.

“Yeah! It’s so important that we keep everything peaceful, and you calling out Lila wasn’t helping with that. Keeping quiet is the right move here, and besides, she isn’t hurting anyone! I’m glad that you finally saw that,” he went on. Marinette raised an eyebrow, feeling like there was more he was going to add. 

“It’s just that, Mari, Lila said you’ve been sending her some pretty mean messages. She said that you’ve been bullying her. That’s not the Everyday Ladybug that I know!” he chided, taking her arm to make her face him. He looked into her eyes imploringly.

“Oh. So it didn’t occur to you that she, a liar, could be stretching the truth there?” Marinette asked him, yanking her arm out of his grasp. She felt the very last signs of her crush wither and die. “Okay. We’re done here. And, Agreste? My name is Marinette,” she emphasized, turning to enter her home.

That night, remembering his words, Marinette tore down the last few pictures of Adrien hanging on her wall.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this chapter is kinda short but whatever. anyways were almost fully caught up to the main upload of the fic!! ch 14, the most recent chapter, will be uploaded on thursday of this week, and from then on it'll be friday updates just like on the official tumblr!!
> 
> edit: YES she has a phone here. YES she said she didnt have a phone in chapter 10. NO she wasnt lying. chapter 10 exists in a bubble dont @ me

Damian and Alya had spent roughly two hours planning her apology to Marinette. So far, the plan was to have her straight up apologize, acknowledge what she did wrong, and promise to make up for it. Damian had told her not to expect forgiveness right away; as kind as Marinette was, Alya had hurt her badly. She had every right to be mad. Alya agreed.

As soon as her apology was sufficient, Damian kicked Alya out politely asked Alya to leave. Before she left, however, he did have one question for her.

“How did you find my address?” he asked her, genuinely puzzled. Even Marinette, the one person in Paris he was fond of, didn’t know where he was staying. Alya grinned.

“A reporter never reveals her secrets!” she responded cheekily. Damian glowered at her until she broke. “Fine. I asked Miss Bustier where you were staying in case you needed help with catching up.” Damian sighed. Of course she had.

“Alright. Goodbye, Cesaire- Alya,” he corrected himself. If she were to make up with Marinette, he’d want to be at least civil to her.

Once she left, Damian looked to his phone. Was it too soon to text Marinette? Texting her the day of their date could come across as pushy.

Damian paused. He’d called it a date. He hadn’t even bothered to correct himself to ‘meeting.’ Sighing, Damian resolved himself to talk to someone about this and work out his feelings. Especially since he couldn’t bring a sword or training dummies, so he couldn’t literally work out his feelings.

He scrolled through his contacts. Who among them would be worth the trouble of calling? Grayson would possibly offer helpful insight, but at the cost of Todd and Drake knowing about his feelings. Alfred would be the most helpful, but calling him felt like cheating. His father would be no help AND would likely bring in Grayson, Todd, AND Drake.

Damian sighed, said goodbye to the last of his reputation and dignity, and pressed call on Grayson’s contact.

The smiling face of his brother filled the screen almost instantly. “Baby bird!” he cried, his voice far too loud in the empty room Damian sat in. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Never mind,” Damian intoned, looking harshly away from the camera. “This was a mistake. Goodbye, Grayson,” he said, moving to hang up.

Before he could press the button, his brother yelled, “Wait! I’m sorry, I was just joking around. What do you need, for real?” he asked, looking imploringly at Damian. “Are you okay?” he added, looking worried.

Damian sighed once more. “I am having… a social issue, one might say. As you are the best of the three of you at socializing, I thought I should ask your advice.”

Dick squealed. “Oh my gosh, baby bird is asking for help AND saying nice things about me?” He assumed a faux-solemn expression. “The situation must be dire.” Returning to his normal expression, he asked, “What’s up?”

Damian groaned, once more regretting this decision. “It’s that girl I told you all about. Miss Dupain-Cheng. We had a… date. Today. I would like to text her, but I feel it may be too soon. What should I do?”

Four minutes later, after Dick was done squealing in excitement and letting out incomprehensible proud brother noises, he finally decided to give Damian useful advice.

“Listen, li’l bro, it’s not too soon to text her. If you feel like you want to talk to her, go for it! I trust your judgement, so she’s probably a good person. Don’t be overbearing, but don’t just pull back from her. Send her a text, tell her you had a good time. If you had chemistry, ask her out again, but not right away. Have a conversation with her first.” Someone- it sounded like Jason, but he couldn’t be sure- called for Dick in the background. “Alright. I gotta go. Good luck, baby bird!”

With that, Grayson hung up. Damian set his phone face down on the desk, thinking about what his brother had said. He nodded to himself and, picking his phone back up, shot Marinette a short text telling her he had fun and hoped she had as well. Before he could overthink it, he clicked send.

Bonus: Three hours later

Damian, completely panicking: Why has she not replied yet?

Marinette, sketching in the park without her phone: Why do I feel like I’m missing something?


	14. Chapter 14

Marinette, after tearing down the last of her Adrien pictures, climbed down from her loft. She picked up the phone resting on her desk, checking the time quickly.

As she put the phone back down, she realized there’d been a notification. She looked again, and sure enough, she had a text from Damian. His contact was still saved as New Kid, she noticed with a grin. As she quickly typed out a response, she realized it’d been two hours since he’d texted her. Adding on to her original message, Marinette drafted a hurried apology and an explanation.

Already second guessing her response, she hit send. The ‘Seen’ indicator showed up almost instantly, and she chuckled to herself as the typing bubble popped up. Had he been waiting for her to text him back?

Ten minutes of texting with Damian later, she’d casually told him how much fun the day had been. Mustering her remaining courage and Social Energy, she asked him if he’d like to go out again sometime soon.

The ‘Seen’ indicator popped up. The typing bubble appeared, disappeared. Appeared, disappeared. A minute passed. Marinette tensed. Had she been too forward? Maybe he didn’t like her like that. Maybe he’d just been playing nice. Maybe this was all some prank Lila had set up.

Eventually, a new message popped up. Marinette stilled, looking over at her phone. There on the screen was, quite possibly, the shortest message ever typed in that length of time.

“Sure.”

Marinette fell back in her chair, sighing out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She was about to respond and start setting up a time and place with him when she heard knocking on her skylight. Typing out a quick “I’ll respond soon, something came up,” Marinette slipped her phone into the pocket of her pajama pants and climbed up to her balcony.

There, as she’d expected him to be, was Chat Noir. Normally, she was fine with the pesky cat visiting, but right now, she was preoccupied. As she opened her mouth to tell him to scram, he interrupted her.

“Good evening, purr-incess! How is my fur-avorite civilian on this fine day?” he asked, grinning smugly at her. She sighed and shook her head, tense around him even as her alter ego.

“I’m fine, Chat. Just... kinda tired,” she responded, subtly moving back towards her skylight. Chat nodded empathetically.

“Did you, by any chance, have a fight with a friend, princess?” he asked, taking a step towards her curiously. She blinked and took another step back.

“I wouldn’t call him a friend. I told off a boy that’s been trying to make me enable my bully for the past year. Why would I still want to be friends with him?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

“What if he didn’t mean it like that? What if he was just trying to keep everyone’s best interests in mind, instead of just yours?” he asked accusatorily. She glared at him.

“If he was, then he was doing a pretty shitty job of it. Chat, I’m tired and cold. I’m not going to hear you defend this guy over your “favorite civilian” anymore. Goodnight,” she said, turning to drop into her bedroom. A gloved hand reached out and snatched her wrist.

Outraged, she turned to see Chat Noir... glaring at her? “Why won’t you just hear him out?” he asked, anger bubbling in his voice. “Why won’t you even try to see his side of things?”

“Let me go!” she responded, pulling with all her might. When he didn’t budge, she stomped on his foot and twisted her arm hard towards his thumb. Easier to break a thumb than four whole fingers. He released her with a shout and she ducked back into her room, running to tell her parents the instant she heard him drop in after her.

The moment before she could knock on their door, his other hand caught her. She glared at him as she turned around, ready to thrust kick him off her, but he tutted, showing her his other hand. It was glowing with a menacing, sickly black. Marinette’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t...” she whispered, voice shaking. He grinned.

“Hm. Now, all I want you to do, princess, is hear out this other boy and think about it from his purr-spective. You won’t do something as simple as that for the Hero of Paris?” he asked, his saccharine voice pointed at the edges. She winced as he tightened his grip. Then, she saw something she’d been hoping for but hadn’t dared expect: Damian, sneaking up behind Chat with a piece of paper in hand.

He touched the paper to Chat’s glowing hand, and with that, his cataclysm was wasted. Damian hooked an arm around his neck, pulling with enough force to hurt, but not enough to do permanent damage.

“Let. The lady. Go,” he growled, pulling a bit more with each word for emphasis. Chat quickly released his grip on Marinette, and Damian released him in turn.

Marinette ran to Damian, staying on the other side of him from Chat so he acted as a barrier.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, Damian. Normally I can handle him myself, but I didn’t really want to get Cataclysmed tonight,” she said, grinning impishly at him. It was true- she could, in a hand to hand fight, beat Chat through skill and precision, even as a civilian.

Damian nodded at her. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. However,” he pulled out his phone, showing that he was in a call with Marinette. A call that seemed to have lasted most of their conversation. He grinned, “I just had this nagging feeling that you could use a hand.” She smiled back at him. Chat cleared his throat.

“This witty back and forth is charming, but why would Marinette need help? We were just having a conversation,” he asked, incredulous. Marinette’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, a conversation in which you threatened to Cataclysm me! Real safe environment for growth there,” she sniped, glaring at him. “Get out of my house.”

“What? But, Marinette, I’m your favorite hero!” he responded, aghast.

“No. You aren’t. Now leave before we make you leave,” she growled, Damian at her side emboldening her. The stubborn cat only lasted a minute against their combined glares before he turned tail and ran.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and we get to the thick of it!!!!! the finale is fast approaching folks!!!!

Damian would like to think himself a fairly composed person, in general.

Which was why he would, under no circumstances, call what he was currently doing “hovering.” Waiting was fair. He could call it waiting without feeling like a damsel from the cover of a bad 1940 romance novel, sitting by the phone in hopes of a call.

Although he was. Sitting by the phone in hopes of a call, that is. Or a text. It had been two hours, why hadn’t Marinette texted him back yet?

Ironically, the moment he thought this, his phone pinged. He practically dove for it, nearly shattering the screen in his effort to see the message as quickly as possible. At Marinette’s hasty apology, he huffed out a relieved chuckle. She truly was something else.

When she asked him if he’d be interested in going on another date, he nearly launched his phone across the room, his face heating up. He typed, deleted, and retyped a dozen different ways to say yes. None of them seemed quite right. He groaned aloud, sent the most succinct yes he could manage, and collapsed on his bed.

Seeing Marinette’s comment that she would be off for a minute, he decided to take the time to process his feelings, like a Mature Human Being. By this, he absolutely Did Not Mean screaming into his pillow for a minute straight.

Damian’s head jerked up as he heard his phone go off. Was Marinette back from her prior obligation already? The caller id seemed to suggest as much as he picked up the call.

It was quickly evident, from the muffled voices and the fact that Marinette made no move to address him, that this had been a butt dial. Damian moved to hang up, but then he heard the voice of the annoying blonde from their class. The Agreste heir. Suddenly, he was much more interested in this conversation. Why was Marinette talking to Agreste in person this late at night?

But then. She addressed him as Chat. He made cat puns and called her Princess. That meant...

Oh god. Well, at least Paris had fewer annoying blondes than he’d originally thought.

The instant Damian heard the conversation edge towards a fight, he stuffed the phone in his pocket and took off at a sprint. Of course the bratty blonde would try something like this. Once the damn cat was gone, he would tell Marinette what he’d figured out. If she was who he thought she was, she’d know better than he what to do with the information.

A half hour later, fight scene done and Marinette smiling shakily at his side, Damian began to explain why, exactly, he’d shown up.

“Marinette. There’s no easy way to tell you this, but... IthinkChatNoirisAgresteandalsoIthinkIfiguredoutyouridentity,” he said in one breath. Marinette stilled next to him.

“I’m sorry, I think I misheard you. Could you repeat that, but slower?” she asked, her tone measured and even. Damian took a deep breath.

“I’m fairly certain Chat Noir is that Agreste boy. Before I knew it was Chat with you, on the phone, I assumed it was Agreste. They have the same voice, I ran it through some software I have while you were out of the room. Unless an Agreste look-alike is doing his Agreste impression while Chat Noir, I think we’ve found the identity of Paris’s leathered menace. I also have a suspicion as to who Ladybug could be,” he started, casting a meaningful glance towards Marinette. She stood up and took a step away from him.

“Don’t. I... Damian. I cannot confirm whatever you think you know, but Ladybug told me that if anyone figured out her identity, she would need to give up her miraculous. Please. Don’t,” she pleaded gently, taking another step away from him. Damian nodded his assent.

“I understand. Would you or Ladybug like any assistance in dealing with that brat cat? I’ve been told I’m quite capable for my age, and if neither of you tries to take him down it’s likely I’ll go for him on my own.” Damian casually stood from his seat, an eyebrow raised in asking. Marinette seemed to consider it for a moment.

“Well. If you’re planning to go anyways, I suppose it’d be safer for you to be accompanied by a hero. Let me go get Ladybug,” Marinette offered, grinning mildly at him. He could hear her unspoken words clear as day: I am trusting you. Do not let me down. He nodded seriously as she ran upstairs. As Ladybug descended, he smiled back at her, the expression not nearly as foreign on his face as it had been a month ago.

Damian found it wasn’t quite in him to mind.

Running across rooftops with the Hero of Paris, Damian was fairly sure that, if you’d told his younger self what his last few weeks had been like, you’d’ve gotten a katana promptly pressed to whatever major artery he could reach. Now, as he scoured the skyline for any hint of the cat on their way to the Agreste Manor, he had simply accepted this.

Ladybug by his side, they quickly came up on Adrien’s window. When she cast him a questioning glance, he nodded. She scooped him up and swung down.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fight scene fight scene fight scene!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: ladybug confronts adrien in this chapter. there is discussion of sexual harassment; if you're uncomfortable reading things like that, send us an ask on tumblr and i'll summarize the chapter for you without that part. take care of yourselves and your mental health cuties!

Marinette picked Damian up lightly, swinging down to Adrien’s window. Everything about this felt wrong. Why did Chat Noir have to be Adrien? She’d thought Adrien was just a pushy pushover. Why did he have to be the person who’d been sexually harassing her?

She tensed as they got closer to his wall of windows, looking around to see if he was in his room. She didn’t see him, which almost made her groan and turn around, but then the shower clicked on. Ladybug scowled. Of course the model boy was showering, when was he fucking not? At least she had confirmation that he was in the room, rather than roaming the streets of Paris as himself.

She dropped silently into the room, Damian beside her. She motioned for him to stay silent until she had a plan, and he nodded.

A thought struck her and she checked the tracker built into her suit. It was offline, which meant that Adrien wasn’t transformed right now. Excellent, that would make retrieving his miraculous a lot easier.

A plan struck her, and she whispered for Damian to hide. It was only going to be a fight after she took the ring, unless Adrien saw Damian and knew something was going on. He nodded and ducked between two arcade cabinets.

Marinette delicately schooled her expression into one of regret and want, reminding herself not to pull away if he touched her until she had taken his ring. Then she could explain to him what the fuck boundaries were.

Adrien walked out of the bathroom wearing Ladybug pajamas. She blinked in surprise before fixing her expression again. Adrien saw her and stilled.

“My- Er, uh, Ladybug? What are you doing here?” he asked, bewildered. She took a careful step towards him.

“Adrien. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I figured out your identity. You were right, Chaton. I do love you.” It was everything he wanted to hear, and she knew it, because he’d been trying to make her say it for months. His eyes lit up and he crossed the room, ending in front of her. She smiled weakly at him.

He didn’t seem to notice how fake the expression was. She was glad for it; his unobservance would make this a lot easier. She placed one hand on the elbow of his ring arm and one hand on his chin, leaning in to kiss him as she trailed her hand down his arm, towards the ring.

Before her lips met his, she had pulled the ring off and taken several steps back. He looked at her in confusion, and then in horror.

“Oh god. You’re an Akuma, aren’t you? How did you figure out my identity?” he spat, lunging for the ring. She danced out of his way, snapping gently with the hand not holding the ring. Damian lept out of the shadows, sending Adrien to the floor and restricting his movement.

Without magical strength, Adrien was no match for Damian, uselessly thrashing on the ground.

“Adrien Agreste. I am not an akuma. I am the real Ladybug, Guardian of the Miraculous. I hereby rescind your right to the Miraculous of the Black Cat. It has the power of destruction, which you weilded recklessly to harm others. Destruction isn’t chaos, nor is it order. It’s both. Destruction is a balance unto itself, and you disrespected and broke that balance. You harassed and harangued your partner and you threatened civilians. You are no longer worthy to be a hero,” she said, putting the ring in the box she’d brought with and the box into her yoyo.

Adrien growled at her. “That miraculous is MINE! Give it back! I earned it, I need it! You can’t just take it away!” He thrashed uselessly against Damian’s restraints.

“It was never yours. All miraculous holders are temporary, as is the nature of life. You were borrowing it, and now you do not deserve it, so it will go to someone else. I may not even send it out; Tikki told me I had enough balance on my own to function without a cat.” She delivered the news solemnly, neither bragging nor offering sympathy.

Damian looked at her, nodding supportively. She steeled herself and drew unto herself all the willpower she had.

“Adrien Agreste. Aside from your listed crimes, you also sexually harassed me. For months.” She glared at him, stalwart.

“But, My Lady, I wasn’t harassing you! You love me, you just don’t know it yet! Besides, you never said anything! How was I supposed to know you wanted me to stop?”

Ladybug growled at him. “I never said anything? What about ‘no’? What about ‘I’m not in love with you’? What about ‘stop touching me, stop calling me Bugaboo, stop flirting with me’? I’ve said lots of things, Adrien, but you weren’t. Fucking. Listening. This is why I have taken the miraculous from you. You do not listen to anyone but yourself. You think no means yes, you think that whatever twisted fantasy of me just playing hard to get this whole time is the truth! You never stop, you never think about how your actions affect others!”

“That’s not true, My Lady! If you really wanted me to stop, you should have just said that,” he said, somehow coming off as both condescending and livid. She bent down and slapped him- not as hard as she would hit a villain, but pretty damn close.

“I did say something. I told you to stop. I told you no. I told you that I didn’t fucking like you in that way. Adrien Agreste, you are not worthy of a miraculous. Even if you were to learn some human fucking decency, I would not return the ring to you. You are not worthy of that much power. Your actions have consequences, and these are those consequences.”

With that, she picked a waiting Damian up and swung out the window, leaving a furious teenager behind her.

Back at the bakery, Marinette was detransformed and worrying. “Should Ladybug have been nicer to him? What if he gets akumatized before she picks a new cat? What would she do?” She paces back and forth in front of Damian, who had come back up to her room once she told him Ladybug had left.

“Do you think she regrets telling him off for harassing her?” Damian asked calmly. Marinette shook her head.

“Of course not, it was what he deserved!” she answered immediately. Damian smiled at her.

“Then it’s alright. He doesn’t deserve more of her time after what he put her through, and she shouldn’t have to comfort the person who harassed her.” She smiled thankfully at Damian. He smiled back, happy that he’d been able to calm her down.

Then, from somewhere by the Agreste Manor, they heard a giant crash.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the fight begins...

The moment he heard the crash, Damian was already in motion. Turning to Marinette swiftly, he blurted out a hasty excuse to allow her to transform: “I’m going to the balcony to see if I can spot Ladybug, if she’s still nearby. You check at ground level, she might be in helping civilians or something.”

He turned his back as soon as she nodded, climbing up to her balcony with practiced speed. He didn’t make a show of looking around; instead, he focused on what he could tell of the akuma from this distance. It didn’t appear to be inhumanly large, which was good. Fighting an opponent your size is almost always easier.

As he began to look more closely, maybe see if he could determine a fighting style or weaknesses from this distance, Ladybug popped up behind him. She nodded grimly to Damian, holding out a small box.

“Damian. You have proven yourself trustworthy and brave. I need your help. This is the Miraculous of the Black Cat. It has the power of Destruction. Will you use this power to assist me in this battle and return the Miraculous afterwards?”

“Of course.” Damian opens the box and a bright, glowing orb flies out and arcs in a lazy circle around him.

“Geez, Bug, not giving me any time to rest here, huh? Suit up, kid. I have a feeling my old kitten’s not going down without a fight,” Plagg drawled, coming to rest on Damian’s shoulder. “Claws out to transform, claws in to transform back, and Cataclysm to use you power. Five minute timer after you use it, then you’ll transform back automatically.”

Damian nodded resolutely, slipping the ring onto his finger. “Plagg, claws out!” A green light flashed over him, and suddenly, where before he had worn business casual clothing suitable for someone fifteen years his senior, Damian now wore a loose cotton getup with flexible armor over the top. His suit was breathable, noticeably not skin-tight, and sensibly armored. His ears weren’t the leather of his predecessor; rather, they were soft cotton with lime green stitching visible around the edges. His tail, loose and waving behind him, looked rather like a black belt.

He plucked a staff off his back, looking it over. An idea flared in his eyes, and he gripped the staff on either end as if to break it in half. He snapped it in two, and a chain formed between the two halves. He grinned, the nunchucks glowing a faint green around the top and bottom of either half. He put it back together into a staff before turning back to Ladybug.

“Alright. I think I can get the hang of it as we fight. From what I saw, he looks regular sized, but he might be deceptively powerful.” Ladybug nodded at him.

“Let’s find a closer vantage point and observe before we go in, see if we can figure out his powers or weaknesses.” The two hopped off the roof of the bakery, approaching the akuma as best they could without garnering attention.

Watching from a rooftop, Ladybug and Damian saw the akuma. He was an ashen gray, cracks showing up and down his body. He drifted along the street, not quite walking but not quite floating either. His feet bumped listlessly against the uneven road, and he flared red, growling at the ground. Molten, glowing red seeped from the cracks in his body, seething towards the stone that he had hit. It quickly melted, the spot where he had been focused clearing to reveal a singed hole.

Gasps went up from the couple civilians on the street. He looked up, gray once more, to see a woman with her arm around a taller woman, pulling her back from the akuma.

“Aww, young love. How sweet,” he crooned, his eyes beginning to darken. A faint glow grew within him. “Tell me, are you aware that you’ll inevitably break each others hearts? That you’re going to hurt each other in the worst way imaginable?” He threw his hand towards the couple and his lava began to shoot in their direction. “Love is a lie. Better to die by my hand than by hers!” he offered cheerily.

Before the lava could reach the couple, Ladybug was gone from Damian’s side. He couldn’t stop her. She dropped down in the line of fire, twirling her yoyo and stopping the lava from progressing any further. She dispelled it almost as quickly as he’d drawn it back.

“My Lady!” he chirruped with clearly false enthusiasm. “Are you here to return what is mine? Or do I need to show you how much betrayal hurts?” She growled, showing an immense amount of restraint by not having cut him in half yet- in Damian’s humble opinion, of course.

“You wanna talk betrayal, cat?” she spat at him, venom dripping from her words. “You were supposed to be my partner! You were supposed to support me and fight alongside me! Instead, you ignored battles to goof off or flirt! Do you know how many civilians died because of you, you stupid cat? Even though they came back, that pain sticks with you! Even though you didn’t directly cause their pain, you are the reason it was as bad as it was! Not to mention the sexual harassment. Do you even know the meaning of the word ‘no’, you dimwit? You put me in therapy. Not Hawkmoth, not my bullies, you. You were supposed to be the person I could trust above all else, but instead you just turned out to be another bully.”

With her every word, he had been glowing a brighter and brighter red. Damian realized too late that he had been goading her into making him angry. Just as he began to call out to her, buckets of lava spewed forth from the ex-hero’s hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not posting a chapter last week! talk to me on mar1garden! have a nice week!! (this story is wrapping up, so check out my other fics on mar1garden!!)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im actually proud of this fight scene, and also the akuma name. i don't like the name i gave damian so if you have a better suggestion for a hero name let me know because right now i named him night knight.

Marinette cried out as a stream of lava blasted towards her. She leaped out of the way, catching her yoyo on a nearby lamppost to swing high. She flipped and swung as Ch- the akuma blasted her again and again. Each time, his glow dimmed. Damian, still on the roof, was observing her tensely. He was watching the akuma for any hint of weakness, any way to defeat him. 

When there was a break between the lava blasts, Ladybug swung out with her yoyo, cutting through his middle. It was slow, like cutting through sludge. His body put itself back together in the wake of her incision, and she growled quietly to herself. She’d need to find some other way to slow him down, at least.

The akuma laughed. “Oh dear, it’s been a whole round of fighting and I’ve yet to introduce myself!” His eyes narrowed as he swiped at Ladybug. “How rude of me.” The akuma momentarily paused in his actions to draw himself up to his full height, a splash of lava rising behind him for dramatic effect. “I am Heatache. You don’t deserve it for what you’ve done, My Lady, but you will nonetheless have the honor of dying by my hand.” A grin cut its way across his face, glowing like a jackolantern. “Congratulations.”

“I think I’m gonna have to pass on that one, burning love.” With a scoff, she threw her yoyo and caught the end when it came back to her, forming a loop around his arm. With a hard pull and a sickly thump, she cut his arm off. As a swath of lava lit a bridge between the two severed ends, Ladybug retreated to the roof next to Damian.

“Okay. What do we have so far?” she asked him, keeping an eye on Heatache as he paced the street. He was no longer floating, she noted. He had left scorched footprints on the street. He did seem to be cooling down, his glow fading. As he did, he returned to floating and headed off towards the Eiffel Tower.

“As you just saw, he can only float when his lava is cooled. Otherwise, he’s subject to the laws of gravity. When the wind picked up a minute ago, it left a cool spot on his side and another on his leg. He protected those spots more when fighting you; I think if he’s cooled by outside sources he’s more fragile. Cutting off limbs seems more inconvenient than harmful, so I think that route isn’t our best option. His fighting style is clunky; he isn’t used to the weight, I’d bet, so just be quicker than him and you can take him down with your agility. There’s a line of lava rocks on his left hip which never glowed at all; I’d bet my arm that’s where the akuma is hiding.” Damian delivered this information with a mildly concerned coolness, which Marinette appreciated. 

“So our best course of action is to cool him down and use our superior agility to hit his hip? Sounds like this calls for a Lucky Charm!” As she spoke the command words, a burst of magic manifested above her. A red and black spotted cork fell into her hands. She blinked, bewildered. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

She looked around, but nothing popped up. She scowled. “Let’s keep moving. Whatever I need isn’t here. We’re going to see if he’s still at the Eiffel Tower. If not, we keep looking, yeah?” Damian nodded, following her lead as she swung towards the monument. 

It turns out, they needn’t have worried about Heatache having moved on. He was standing at the base of the tower, melting one of the legs. It had begun to tip, and he looked bigger than he had been before. As she looked around the scene, Ladybug’s vision stuck on a half-crushed barrel, an abandoned drink vendor’s cart, her cork, her yoyo, a skewer, and the Eiffel Tower. She grinned.

“You’re on distraction duty. Keep him busy even if he goes for me, yeah?” Damian nodded, dashing towards Heatache with his staff drawn. The akuma growled, flaring up instantly. 

“Really, My Lady? The wounds haven’t stopped bleeding and you’re already replacing me? That’s low, even for you.” Ladybug ignored his goading, setting up her trap. Heatache quickly lost focus on her in the midst of Damian’s flurry of blows. The boy switched between using his staff as if it were a bo staff and using its nunchuck form. At one point, he realized he could both extend it and snap it to create kali sticks. 

Turns out, even lava monsters are weak to being clocked on the head. Damian adapted to changing the forms of his staff with impressive speed, knocking Heatache off his feet a few times during the fight. Each time, he simply grew new ones instead of melding the old ones back on. There was no lack of banter, but Damain didn’t give in to the villain’s goading. He stood firm, refusing to rile up his opponent. If your enemy’s anger is their power source, why would you willingly make them angrier?

Eventually, Ladybug signaled to Damian from her place in the rafters of the tower. She pointed to a circle of rope on the ground and then Heatache. Damian nodded his understanding and began to coax the burning villain towards the circle. Ladybug hopped down and joined the fight as well. The moment his foot landed in the circle, the rope pulled taught and then fell loose, the cork at the end hitting him in the head just in time to make him look up.

A tidal wave of sugary, ice cold soft drinks cascaded down on him. Much of it evaporated in a cloud of sweet smelling steam, but it left a damp, darkened Heatache behind it. Ladybug leaped while he was still in shock, hitting the outcropping on his hip with her yoyo. A chunk snapped off and the akuma fluttered out.

When the akuma was purified and the Miraculous Cure had been cast, reporters began swarming the scene. Adrien Agreste, teen heartthrob, had just been akumatized. On top of that, there was a new black cat, and Adrien had seemingly been the old Chat Noir. What reporter worth their salt wouldn’t show up?

Setting Damian on ‘scaring away reporters’ duty, Ladybug walked up to Adrien. He was still sitting on the ground, anger, sadness, and confusion wrestling on his face. Ladybug scowled at him as she approached.

“I’m not going to comfort you. Your actions, as Chat Noir and during our confrontation, were wrong. You were in the wrong. You need to critically think about your actions and assess them for even one minute. But you didn’t deserve to be taken advantage of by Hawkmoth, and your actions during the fight were not your own. Neither I nor the city of Paris will blame you for your akumatized self’s actions. Use this as a learning opportunity.” With that, she left, joining Damian in front of the only remaining reporter. 

When she ended up next to him, she was only semi surprised to see him chatting with Alya. The disdain in his voice was mostly masked, which was nice of him. 

Alya turned and smiled at her when she walked up. “So, Ladybug, gonna give us the scoop on your new partner or what? He’s been tightlipped against all of my questions, so I was hoping you might have some answers for me.”

Ladybug grinned. “Well, I don’t even know his name. The battle took precedent.” Damian huffed out a laugh next to her.

“That one, I can answer. I’m Chevalier Nuit.” Ladybug’s earrings beeped. Damian laughed once more. “Right on time. Care to head out, Angel?” She giggled back at him and took his hand in answer. The two of them swung back to the bakery, matching grins across their faces.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yall want some fluff? here you go. a present for u

Damian and Ladybug dropped through Marinette’s skylight. Both had a couple minutes left on their timers. Damian turned to Ladybug, calling out a ‘Claws Off’ as he did so.

“I’m assuming you’ll want this back, then,” he offered, beginning to pull the ring from his finger. Ladybug stopped him with a grin.

“You did well today. I think you can keep the ring for a bit. On a trial basis, of course,” she added cheekily. Damian bit back a laugh.

“Thank you, Ladybug. I’m gonna go downstairs and wait for Marinette. If you see her, could you send her down?” he asked with laughter in his voice. Her grin widened.

“I think I can manage that,” she answered, chuckling. Damian headed down to the living room. A minute later, Marinette joined him.

“Hey, Damian. Did you see the fight?” she asked, keeping up the pretense of not being Ladybug. He huffed out a laugh as she sat next to him.

“You could say that,” he answered. “What about you?”

Marinette giggled. “Same answer. Did you see the new hero on the scene? I think his name was... Chevalier Nuit?”

Damian smiled as they continued to banter as if neither of them knew the other’s secret identity. It was fun and light in a way that Damian wasn’t really used to social interactions being. It was easy, talking to Marinette. Joking around with her, even flirting with her. Normally, he was suspicious of things that were easy, but. Well. He would have quite a difficult time being suspicious of Marinette, he assumed.

“Did you hear? Apparently Chevalier Nuit called Ladybug ‘Angel’ after the fight. The Ladyblog forums are going crazy,” she teased him. He laughed, bumping her shoulder with his own.

“Well, maybe he called her Angel because he thinks she is one,” he offered with a grin. When Marinette didn’t respond, he looked over at her. She was blushing, and doing a very bad job of hiding it, too. “Like you are,” he added. Her cheeks turned a shade darker.

“I- I’m not, I mean, you’re- I- That’s-” she responded elpquently. Damian laughed.

“You’re so cute,” he told her. She blushed harder.

“You are too,” she managed to answer, only stammering a little. Damian blinked.

“I- cute? No. Angel, I think that’s the wrong word,” he protested, shaking his head. Marinette sat straight up, embarrassment forgotten.

“You are cute! Damian, I say this with utter sincerity: you named a cow after your city’s predominant hero. You get flustered after one compliment. You kept a wrapper in your pocket for three blocks because there wasn’t a trash can and you didn’t want to litter. Damian, you’re so cute!” With each word, she spoke more passionately. Damian had begun to recede into his shirt like a turtle to hide the blush steadily making its way across his face.

“Untrue,” Damian responded, hiding in his shirt with the most dignity he could muster. “You’re the cute one, Marinette, not me.”

She patted the top of his head once. “That’s the meanness snooze button. You’re not allowed to be mean to yourself for ten minutes. Now accept that you’re cute!! You’re hiding in your shirt because I’m complimenting you, tell me one reason that isn’t cute.” Damian returned to his normal, non-shirt-turtled state, a scowl on his face despite his blush.

“You’re still cuter. The whole meanness snooze button thing was the cutest thing I have seen any living human do, ever.” Marinette’s blush returned. Damian grinned.

“Oh no,” she giggled in response, “you’re not turning this around on me, mister. Accept that you’re cute or I’ll tickle you,” she threatened, lifting her hands in what he assumed was prime tickling position. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept things that aren’t true, Angel,” Damian answered, grinning. Marinette’s smile turned sharp and mildly terrifying. Trained assassin and vigilante that he was, he wasn’t scared at all. Nope. Not even a little bit. He didn’t flinch at all when she lunged forwards to tickle him, and neither god nor man could make him say otherwise.

“Now will you admit your cuteness?” she asked five minutes later. Damian was curled into a ball to protect himself from the tickle onslaught, but Marinette had still figured out ways to tickle him anyways. 

“Never!” he answered. Unfortunately, this distracted him, and she managed to uncurl him enough to tickle him. He tried to recurl, but it was too late. 

“Admit it! Admiiiit iiiiiiit,” she cajoled him. He tried to scowl, but he was laughing too hard to do much.

“Fine! F-fine, st- ha, stop, wait, fine,” he pleaded. Marinette withdrew her hands with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes?” she prompted. Damian grinned and sat up, quickly lunging forwards to tickle her.

“Admit you’re cuter than me!” he teased as she laughed in surprise. 

“Oh how the turns have tabled!” she giggled as he continued to tickle her. She tried to pull away, laughing, but he followed her, his grin only growing. She tumbled off the couch, hitting her arms and legs out as she hit the ground to minimize impact. Unfortunately, this meant that Damian could now tickle her much more efficiently. 

“Now will you admit that you’re cuter than me?” he asked as she laughed heartily. 

“Nope!” she responded. The pair of them tussled for a while longer, but eventually they both tired and returned to the couch, still laughing intermittently. Damian looked over at Marinette, about to send a teasing comment her way, but she huffed out a gentle laugh. The sun through the windows painted her in golden hues and his breath caught in his throat.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked impulsively, suddenly wanting nothing more than the feeling of her lips on his. She looked at him, eyes wide and shocked. 

“I- yes, please,” she answered, smiling and blushing. Damian smiled back and leaned in, closing the distance between them. His hand moved to cup her cheek gently and his lips met hers. The kiss wasn’t perfect; he had overestimated the distance between them, and their teeth clicked together when they connected. His nose was smushed into the side of hers. But then he tilted his head and they slotted together like they were made for it.

He kissed her gently, sweetly. She tasted like vanilla and cinnamon. In a way he found he was getting used to very quickly, Damian was happy. He found he couldn’t bring himself to mind it.


	20. Chapter 20

Marinette was elated. Damian had just kissed her! He was pretty good at it too, if she did say so herself.

When she pulled away, he chased after her. Giggling, she tapped his cheek and he stopped. When she saw his pout, she giggled once more.

“Wait, I have a question for you,” she told him by way of explanation. He blinked, looking a little dazed from the kiss, before nodding at her to continue. “Damian... wait, I still don’t know your last name, this isn’t as dramatic if I don’t know your last name.” He blinked again before huffing out a laugh.

“Wayne,” he answered with a fair bit of trepidation. “My last name is Wayne.”

Marinette was puzzled about why he’d sounded anxious to tell her, but then her brain caught up. “Wait. Wayne? As in, Wayne Enterprises? As in, billionaire Bruce Wayne?” Oh god. She’d been dating the son of a billionaire and she hadn’t even realized. Was there etiquette she was supposed to be following? Was this why he hadn’t told her his last name yet?

He fidgeted on the couch in front of her, and she realized she’d just been staring in shocked silence this whole time. She quickly sputtered out an apology.

“I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize you, if there’s etiquette or something I’m supposed to have been following I’m sorry that I don’t know it,” she started, clearly rambling. The more she tried to stop talking, the deeper a hole she dug herself. “Would your family be okay with you dating someone so far below your station or whatever? I, I mean, if we’re dating, we’ve only been on one date, I MEAN, not to say that I don’t WANT to date you, because I do, it’s just-“

“Marinette,” he cut her off, his fidgeting having been replaced with a grin as she spoke, “it’s fine. My father doesn’t care about station or etiquette or things like that unless we’re at a gala with people who DO care about those things.” His smile turned shy, though it would be hard to notice if you didn’t know him. “And... I’d rather like to date you, if that’s what you want.”

Marinette sat up straight, surprise clear on her face. “Oh no, I ruined it! I was gonna do this big dramatic thing where I ask you to be my boyfriend and I ruined it!” Damian blushed.

“You... you can still ask me, if you want to,” he replied, seeming like he was trying to retain at least a smidgen of his cool stonefacedness and failing miserably. Marinette lit up like a christmas tree, taking his hands gently and holding them between where the two of them sat on the couch.

“Damian Wayne,” she began, looking deep into his eyes, “would you like to be my boyfriend?” She spoke the word with all the weight it had in her mind. He grinned.

“Of course I would,” he answered, squeezing her hands slightly. She squeezed back.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked him, and as soon as the question left her lips he was already leaning forwards, one of his hands leaving hers to cup her cheek instead. This time, there was no clicking of teeth, no misaligned noses smushing together. There was just Damian, kissing Marinette like there was nothing he’d rather do.

Marinette raised her own hand to cradle the back of his head, playing with the ends of his hair. It was surprisingly soft; from the length he kept it at, she’d assumed it would be course and a little scratchy, but instead it was smooth under her fingers.

Damian was a very good kisser, she decided. His mouth was warm and soft against hers; she wondered if he used chapstick or if he just had naturally soft lips. She smiled at the fact that this was the type of thing she got to wonder about, now. Damian pulled back a bit.

“What’re you smiling about, Angel?” he asked her, smiling back. She giggled.

“I’m smiling because of you,” she answered, her smile taking on a satisfied tinge as a blush grew on Damian’s face. She lifted her hands to his cheeks and ran her thumbs across the path of the blush, just because she could. He blushed more at the action and she giggled.

“...Do you wanna go back to kissing?” he asked, but just as she nodded, the door to the stairs opened and her parents walked in. Marinette dropped her hands like she’d been burned, clasping them together in her lap.

“Marinette?” her mom asked, looking curiously at the two of them. “Who is this boy?” Her dad showed up behind Sabine, looking over her at the two of them. Marinette looked at Damian questioningly, and he nodded slightly at her.

“Mom, Dad, this is Damian Wayne. My boyfriend.” Her dad gasped, her mom smiled, and Damian waved awkwardly. “He’s very important to me, so please be nice to him,” she told them, looking between the two of them to make sure they both nodded affirmations at her.

“Well, son, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” her dad said, walking over to them. Damian stood up to shake his hand, and Marinette saw her dad squeeze Damian’s hand a little harder than stricly necessary. “You treat my little girl well, okay?” he added.

“Dad, threatening him isn’t being nice to him. Damian is very kind to me. You don’t need to threaten him,” she scolded. Tom let Damian’s hand go, smiling amiably.

“You’re right, honey. I trust you to pick who to hang out with. But if he ever hurts you, you let me know, okay?” Marinette laughed and hugged her dad.

“Okay, dad,” she answered, stepping back with a smile. Her mom now stepped up to talk to Damian.

“Will you be staying for dinner? If so, do you have any dietary restrictions?” she asked him, smiling pleasantly. Marinette was glad her mom was actually playing nice with Damian, though she suspected it was mainly to balance out her father. Damian looked over at Marinette.

“You can stay if you want, Damian!” she answered, smiling. She tried to make it clear that she would be happy if he wanted to stay, but there was no pressure if he didn’t want to. He smiled back gratefully.

“In that case, dinner sounds nice. As for dietary restrictions, I’m a vegetarian,” he answered. Sabine nodded.

“Okay! Marinette, ground rules: if the two of you are in your room, the trap door stays open. Your curfew is still 11, unless you tell us beforehand and get permission to sleep over. Alright?”

Marinette nodded. “Okay. I think we’re gonna head up, but we’ll leave the trap door open.” She looked to Damian, who nodded. Her parents smiled at them as they went up to Marinette’s room, leaving the trap door open.

Marinette’s eyes caught on the unfinished outfit on her desk. She quickly looked away, turning back to Damian. She smiled at him.

“Wanna continue where we left off?”


	21. Chapter 21

After dinner with Marinette’s parents, Damian and Marinette wandered outside. They sat down on the steps to talk.

“Angel, I-“ Damian began, but then he saw Alya approaching from behind Marinette. He cut himself off and nodded in her direction, prompting Marinette to turn and look at her.

Marinette stiffened when she saw Alya. An expression of casual disinterest made its way onto her face, and she arched one eyebrow judgmentally. Alya approached anyways.

“Marinette. Before you say anything, please just hear me out.” Marinette nodded for her to go on, curiousity overtaking suspicion. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted you, rather than Lila. I should have found sources myself instead of putting the onus on you. I shouldn’t have accused you of just being jealous. I’m sorry that I took her word over yours. I was a bad friend,” she said, looking sincerely at Marinette.

Marinette opened her mouth, but Alya held up one finger pleadingly. She had more to say. “You don’t have to forgive me. I should have done better. But, if you’ll have me, I’d love to try being friends again. I promise I’ll trust your word over a stranger’s. I promise to actually listen to you. If you give me another chance, Marinette, I promise I’ll do better.” Marinette looked over Alya. Her expression was one of stoic pride, but Damian could tell that she desperately wanted to forgive Alya.

“Alya. I would love to be your friend again, but you hurt me when you chose Lila over me. I’m not sure if I can trust you again. I think we can be friends, but I don’t think our friendship can be like it was before. I thought I knew you, but you left me for her. We can try being friends again, Alya, but I don’t think we can be best friends,” Marinette offered. Alya looked equal parts relieved and saddened by this, but she nodded anyways.

“I understand, Marinette. Thank you for letting me try again. I promise I won’t let you down,” Alya said, hope and sincerity clear in her voice. Marinette finally, finally smiled, scooting closer to Damian and patting the space next to her.

“C’mon. I think we have a lot to catch up on,” she explained. Alya smiled back gleefully and sat.

The two of them talked about everything that had happened since they stopped talking as often. Marinette told Alya that she “got over [her] stupid crush on Agreste, finally.” Alya was proud of her, told her as much. Marinette smiled.

“Sooooo... other than that, any new developments in the romance department?” Alya asked slyly, grinning. Marinette giggled and tilted her head towards Damian, who had been sitting quietly as the two caught up. Damian waved at Alya and struggled not to blush, as he still had some dignity left and Marinette thinking of him as a romantic development shouldn’t have this much of an effect on him. Alya lit up delightedly.

“Really? Girl, you have to tell me everything! When did you two get together?” she asked, looking between the two of them. Marinette gently laughed.

“Well, that may or may not have been our first date you interrupted,” she told Alya, who took on an expression of horror.

“Mari, I am SO sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, oh my god, you two were on a date and I basically heckled you! I’m so sorry,” she said again. Marinette huffed out an exasperated laugh. Damian added it to a quickly growing mental file of the most adorable noises he’d ever heard.

“Alya, it’s okay. You already apologized. Plus, it prompted us to head to the Pont des Arts instead, and Damian looks very pretty in profile,” she said, nudging his arm playfully. He laughed quietly and kissed her temple.

“I think we all know who the pretty one in this relationship is, Angel,” he said, grinning. Marinette raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, are we doing this argument again?” she asked challengingly. He tried not to smile again at her adorable frame containing such a fight-y person.

“Last time, if I remember correctly, we were fighting over which one of us was cuter. Pretty is different, because I am objectively correct, instead of subjectively. Coincidentally, I was subjectively right before, in which the subject is every person with eyes.” Marinette laughed and placed a kiss to Damian’s cheek. He was pretty sure he blushed, but he couldn’t really tell due to the fact that his brain had short circuited.

Alya cleared her throat. She and Marinette went back to talking, but Marinette was holding one of his arms gently and all he could think about was how much he liked her.

Eventually, he regained the use of his brain, and he occasionally added thoughts to the conversation, but he mainly stayed quiet, content to simply live in the moment. It was a very nice moment.


	22. Epilogue

It had been two weeks since they’d defeated Hawkmoth, a month since they’d unmasked and replaced Chat Noir. Marinette was impressed and, if she was being honest, a little frustrated. Damian had done in two months what had taken Marinette nearly a year!

To be fair, as he often explained, he had nearly unlimited resources and she just had herself. He’d placed cameras to track akumas around the city, found their spot of origin, and come to the obvious conclusion.

Despite herself, Marinette couldn’t help but feel bad for Adrien. After she’d taken the ring from him (and they’d defeated him), he had gone back to home schooling. It was apparently of his own volition. Chloe had been heartbroken, obviously. As had Lila.

Marinette had been indifferent.

But then, with the revelation of his father’s true identity, there came a swarm of reporters, each speculating on how much he’d known. How little he’d done to stop his father. Though he’d been an awful hero, hurting more often than he helped and harassing her along the way, she was pretty sure he hadn’t actively been working for his father.

She didn’t stand up for him, however. Either as herself or as Ladybug. Even if he was trying to better himself now, he’d done too much to her, hurt her too much, for her to have his back now. 

But it had been two weeks since Damian’s mission technically finished. He was still in Paris, pretending he just hadn’t bothered to book a flight yet. Marinette was glad he was still staying in Paris, but she really thought they should talk about it. She wasn’t going to ask him to stay in Paris- his family, his life was in Gotham. She couldn’t ask him to stay just for her.

But when she broached the subject, asking him if he was planning on going back to Gotham, he refused to meet her eyes. He said, in the most casual voice she had ever heard a human being use, “Well. I was thinking about staying until the end of the school year, actually. I mean, the people I actually like aren’t going to start hating me just because I’m in Paris for a year. And besides, I don’t hate it here.” He nudged her arm slightly, still looking away inconspicuously. “Some of the people are pretty cool.”

Marinette blushed. “Gonna have to agree with you there.” She nudged him back. “Some of the people are pretty cool.” Damian blushed and Marinette laughed, leaning against him. She poked at his cheek until he looked at her, and she smiled bemusedly. “You’re so pretty when you blush.”

He blushed harder. “I, um, no you!” Marinette continued laughing. “Stop laughing!” Damian protested. 

“Make me,” she responded through her laughter. Damian paused, raising an eyebrow challengingly. She continued giggling as he swooped towards her and placed a kiss on each cheek, followed by the corner of her mouth. Her temple. He peppered her face with kisses as she continued to laugh.

She placed a hand on his jawline, guiding him to kiss her properly. They were so caught up in their moment that, when someone cleared their throat behind them, Marinette jumped. Damian harrumphed, trying to regain any of his dignity, as the two of them turned around.

Alya stood in front of them, one eyebrow raised judgmentally. “You two done?” she asked, her judgy facade remaining in place for roughly three seconds before she shook her head, laughter bubbling out of her. “Oh my god, your faces! Oh, that was priceless,” she wheezed. Marinette smiled back at her. She was delighted to have her friend back, and the three of them had, in their spare time, found little ways to free their classmates from Lila’s grasp. 

They didn’t do one big event to expose her. Instead, they worked one person at a time, getting Nino to know the truth, then Juleka, then Rose. They slowly showed the whole class the truth, and with each person that believed them, Marinette could breathe a little easier. 

It didn’t hurt that Lila had claimed to be dating Damian Wayne. Alya had practically cackled when they told her who Damian was, declaring that this was the best news she’d heard all week. 

No one was outwardly mean to Lila. They simply brushed her off, treated her like a casual acquaintance rather than a friend. She threw a fit when it first started, but they were pretty sure she was transferring to a different school, because she hadn’t pulled out the theatrics in about a week.

Marinette didn’t think she could be happier. She had dethroned her awful partner and replaced him with her wonderful boyfriend. They’d defeated her archenemy- both of them, in fact. She’d even gotten her friends back!

She smiled to herself as Alya and Damian started bickering. As she leaned into his side, she realized that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow us on tumblr @mar1garden!! We also have a discord server, so hit us up on the blog for an invite!!


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